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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26470663">Burning in the Longest Night</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenBird/pseuds/GreenBird'>GreenBird</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alpha Eskel, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Beta Geralt, Eventual Threesome, Hurt Eskel, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multiple Partners, Mutual Pining, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Lambert, Pheromones, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Puberty, Scenting, Slow Burn, big dick problems, eventual pairing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:02:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>67,323</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26470663</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenBird/pseuds/GreenBird</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Alphas must never approach an omega in heat, witcher or human, alone. Never without a beta.”</p><p>Omegas in heat are feral. Alphas in rut are defenseless to their wiles. Only betas, with their calming presence, can help the two bridge their gap in their time of need. Geralt is Eskel’s balm, his backbone. The Alpha/Beta pair are sturdy comrades, but along came Lambert, and Eskel cannot resist the prickly, fierce omega. </p><p>With the specter of their crude instincts haunting their steps, can an alpha/omega pair ever truly work? Or does it take another’s help to make things whole again?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eskel &amp; Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Lambert, Eskel/Lambert (The Witcher), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Lambert</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>127</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>206</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Presenting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I said I would never write another A/B/O, but then I got this in my head and couldn’t get it out. What if omega humans had the dynamic of many ovum-carrying species, where the egg-carrier is ferocious and the sperm-carrier is weak to their wiles? What would that look like in the relationships around them?</p><p>In this first chapter, we see Eskel and Geralt coming to terms with what they present as and realize how it will effect their lives.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Barmin was a grave old bastard. His rough voice and stern demeanor were accentuated by the ruination of scars down the left side of his face. Barman was strict and sharp and when he spoke, everyone listened. Especially witchers in training.</p><p>Eskel and Geralt sat side by side, Frank behind them and Gweld up and to the left. They never got used to filling in the empty spots left after the Trial of the Grasses years before, and they were so used to their seats in the class that they didn’t bother moving about. </p><p>Barmin swept his eyes over the group, pleased with their attention. “Today, young witchers, we will have a talk about a new challenge you will soon face.” All four sat straighter, prepared to hear some new terror they would have to undergo before the Trial of the Medallion the next year. </p><p>Barmin huffed, seating himself on the ancient stool in front of the class. “This is not a trial we will bestow on you, this is a coming of age. You are all of or near seventeen summers, you’ve already undergone the change of growing into young men from boys, and soon you’ll undergo another.” He saw understanding trickle from one to the other. “Of course, this is a change all those of human heritage will undergo, that of the presentation of your subsex.”</p><p>The young men in front of him reacted subtly, no doubt as part of their effort to impress him with their stoicism. It was no use. Barmin smelled the spike of nerves in the room, the strained sweat of anxious young men. Only Geralt’s heart failed to quicken.</p><p>“You’ll all end up presenting as one of three outcomes, alphas, betas or omegas. Each has its assets and two have downfalls.” Barmin thinned his eyes, making sure his severity was known. “In Kaer Morhen, all three are equal. No man will be shamed for what he cannot control and what nature has bestowed on him. If I catch word of any harassment or bigotry I will hide you and toss you out into the wilds, is that understood?”</p><p>A round of strong agreement came from the trainees, each one nodding. “Good lads,” Barmin said, pleased. “Now, as for what to expect when one presents, I will make this simple. If you present as an alpha, then there are many things to know. You will find building muscle a bit easier than most, and you will perhaps have a few more inches to add in your height. Those are your benefits. Unfortunately, it may end there. You are also going to become very sensitive to smell and hormonal changes in those around you.”</p><p>Frank was frowning hard and his arm twitched. Barmin knew he was dying to hold up a hand. “Let’s hear the question, pup.”</p><p>“Sir, are you saying we will have an even stronger sense of smell than we do already?”</p><p>“In regards to one thing in particular, yes,” Barmin said. “And that is the scent put off by omegas.” He leaned forward, setting his elbows on his knees and carefully observed them all.</p><p>“Those of you who present omega, you will be slightly more agile than your brothers. Since you are witchers, you do not need to worry about the main ability gained by male omegas, which is that of being able to bear a child. Since you also cannot sire a child, nothing will be gained in that regard.” The boys already knew of that. They had received sexual education years before, and had no doubt tried their own hand at it with one another, if the horrific funk in the barracks was anything to go by. </p><p>“You will, however, have to deal with a bit of a curse that comes with that ability, regardless. Being infertile will not spare you the breeding heat all omegas undergo yearly.”</p><p>He gestured to the door, indicating the keep at large. “Surely you lot have seen and heard when a fellow goes into his seasons, yes?”</p><p>They all nodded. It was hard to miss. Every once and a while the alphas of the keep became anxious, and inevitably some omega witcher was escorted off to stay at the watchtower for a few days until they were well again. </p><p>“Omegas, you will have the responsibility of handling your heats. You may have assistance from beta fellows or you may be alone. Most omegas have their season after the solstice turns. During that time, an omega is desperate for sexual congress.” He did not miss the twitch of a smile on Eskel’s face as he tried not to laugh. Barmin didn’t mind, he was going to ruin that mood quickly. “Also, during that time, an omega is gravely dangerous to an alpha.”</p><p>The only one who didn’t seem puzzled was Gweld. Instead, the boy seemed ready to speak. Barmin nodded to him.</p><p>“An omega in heat, they’re violent, correct? I’ve heard-” he broke off, swallowing, “I have heard screams and snarls from the watchtower on patrols.”</p><p>“Yes,” Barmin said. “An omega in heat can be lethal if they so decide. It is a natural state so that they cannot be taken advantage of and bred against their will to an unworthy suitor. This will be true in humans as well as in yourselves: an alpha must never approach an omega in heat.”</p><p>“You mentioned that we would want to?” It was Eskel this time. </p><p>“Oh yes. An alpha is weak to the scent of an omega. It is like a lure, but an omega is dangerous. An alpha will go into rut when they smell an omega in heat, and with it comes extreme vulnerability.” He made eye contact with each of the boys in turn. “A rutting alpha becomes emotional, weak-willed and will not fight back against an omega. Their only goal is to mate, and they will die trying to please an omega in heat. An omega in heat is violent, untamed and vicious. They will harm an alpha,” He growled, making sure they took the warning for what it was. Too many a young alpha witcher thought they could handle an omega human, only to be disemboweled once the sex was over. </p><p>“Alpha and omega are oil and water when it comes to heats. If you are an alpha, you will be harmed, and if you are an omega who failed to secure yourself before your heat, you will harm some hapless alpha.” He stabbed a finger into his palm, accentuating each word. “If you are an alpha, you must never approach an omega in heat, witcher or human, alone.”</p><p>“Alone?”</p><p>Barmin grunted. “And here we come to our third subsex, the beta. A beta has no changes to their body, but also no downfalls. They will not go mad in a heat, they will not become weak in a rut. They will stay sane and calm and in control. For those of you who will be betas, congratulations; you’re essential in alpha and omega relations.”</p><p>He clapped his hands and Frank nearly jumped. He did so love that he still put fear in the new recruits. “Now,” he said, “when I mentioned alphas should never approach an omega in heat alone, that is what I meant- never without a beta. Betas are the only subsex able to soothe an omega’s wrath. You may have noticed a few witchers around the keep are a bit more tactile than others?”</p><p>They all nodded, and he knew it was impossible to miss. Travi and Lem were nearly swarmed each winter by riled omegas and anxious alphas. The betas took it in stride, and were good men, letting their brothers hug and lean into them, scent and smother them in their times of need. </p><p>“Betas omit a scent we call Quelling. It can calm both alphas and omegas and keep the peace. Betas here at Kaer Morhen are given the task to aid their brothers. This does not mean you’ll be asked to participate in sexual contact, Frank- get the worried look off your face.” Frank attempted to school his expression as the other boys looked his way. “It simply means that you may be needed to calm things down during the season.”</p><p>Geralt’s hand finally went up, his face impassive. “I have seen some men, I assume they are alphas, smell a vial they carry on them. What is that?”</p><p>Astute one, Geralt. The quiet were always the watchful ones. “Well spotted,” he said. Barmin’s hand went to his pocket, and he drew out a small dram, showing them all. “Our mages were able to make an oil that simulates the scent of Quelling. It doesn’t work as well as the real thing, but it will do to slow the heart and make an alpha see clearly again.” He put it back in his pocket. It felt strange when it was amiss: he had been carrying it for well over fifty years. “Should you present as an alpha, you will always carry one. If you are an omega, you will need to apply it to your skin every heat to help with your rage.”</p><p>He looked about the room, and knew there were questions. There would be hundreds more as they all began to present. “You’ll all be talked to individually as you change, and preparations will be made. This is a task you will have for the rest of your life, but it is essential in keeping yourself and humans safe.”</p><p>Frank couldn’t help himself, and raised his hand again.</p><p>“Yes, boy?”</p><p>“Does that mean we should only buy the services of beta whores?”</p><p>Eskel really did fail to hide his laugh this time, and even Geralt twitched his lip. </p><p>Barmin ran his hand over his face and sighed. “It doesn’t matter outside the season, Frank. Pay whoever will take you.”</p><p>“Going to have to make a lot of money,” Gweld muttered. Frank huffed in outrage and Eskel outright cackled. Barmin didn’t bother scolding them. He’d given them enough to think about that day.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Why are you so sweaty?”</p><p>Geralt threw a towel in Eskel’s face. It was mid-summer, and it was hot, but not hot enough to excuse his outright drenched body.</p><p>“I don’t know,” Eskel muttered, “don’t feel so great. Feels like coming off of a potion.”</p><p>“We haven’t been doing anything,” Geralt said, gesturing to the nearly empty practice yards. They had only been doing simple forms, not yet even fighting. Eskel shouldn’t feel like he had run the killed and downed several doses of potions.</p><p>He mopped his brow, pushing the hair out of his eyes, and sat down heavily. “Gunna take a break.”</p><p>Geralt shifted beside him, debating running to grab an instructor. Osbert was teaching the young pups in the side courtyard, and Vesemir was in the hall with the newest trainees. He was about to bolt off when elder Guxart came from the stables. </p><p>“Master Guxart,” he called, “I think something may be wrong with Eskel.”</p><p>“‘M fine,” Eskel complained from where he was now laying on the ground.</p><p>Guxart trotted over, head tipped. “Did you get hit, lad?”</p><p>“No, we were only practicing forms.”</p><p>The older witcher knelt near Eskel’s head, and reached out to check his temperature. When his hand drew away wet with sweat, his nose flared. Geralt saw Guxart’s pupils blow wider as he took in the scent and then stood. </p><p>“Well, Eskel my boy, it seems you’re going to have the day off. You’re going through your change.” He wiped his hands on his pants and gestured for Geralt to help get him up. “One or two days and you’ll be up again, perhaps a little sore and moody.” He threw his arm around Eskel’s torso, holding him up effortlessly as Geralt steadied his other side. Guxart was older, but he was still enormous and strong.</p><p>“Done enough changing,” Eskel groused, and Guxart laughed. </p><p>“Don’t worry, this one is quick and natural. Let’s get you to your bunk and you can rest.” He clapped his hand to Eskel’s shoulder. “Welcome to the club, little alpha,” he said, laughing as Eskel grunted unenthusiastically, “you’re going to be fine.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Eskel’s ‘change’ was more like a strange fever, excessive sweating and sore joints. Just as Guxart said, he was better in a few days and back to normal. The only change Geralt noticed directly was his scent. It was a subtle shift, a warm, mellow scent, only slightly musky. His sweat smelled a little less offensive, so it was a bonus in Geralt’s book.</p><p>A week after he recovered, Barmin took him aside and Eskel returned with a vial of his own, and a small, coin-sized trinket with an oil-soaked rag inside of it. </p><p>“Some alphas like to wear it with their medallion,” he said, handing it over for Geralt to inspect. “So they have the smell close at hand.”</p><p>Geralt sniffed the oil, expecting some revelation of scent. He smelled something vaguely like wood and evergreen, but nothing miraculous. “This really work?” He asked.</p><p>Eskel took the coin back and took a long draw from it. His eyelids fluttered. “Yeah, it really does.”</p><p>“Guess you’re not an alpha then, Geralt?” Frank said from across the room. He was always such a nosey cunt. </p><p>Geralt shrugged. “Hasn’t happened to me, yet. Don’t see you changing, either.”</p><p>Frank shrugged. “I’m just praying to sweet Freyja that I am not a goddamn omega. That feral shit is just creepy. They want to get fucked so bad they murder someone? No thanks.”</p><p>Geralt grunted, but couldn’t get himself to disagree. If he ended up being an omega, that meant friction between himself and Eskel. That was the last thing he wanted. Geralt didn’t pray, but he did certainly hope he wouldn’t get that particular outcome. </p><p>The next morning, Eskel was wearing the small censer on a tether around his neck. Geralt noticed him sniffing it whenever he thought someone wasn’t watching.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
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</p><p>He should have known he would be next. Geralt rarely did anything without Eskel and vice versa. Only a few weeks later, just as summer ebbed, Geralt felt a little dizzy and hot. It wasn’t nearly as debilitating as Eskel’s, but he knew something was happening as soon as he woke.</p><p>“Master Vesemir,” he said, walking up to his teacher at breakfast. His knees wobbled strangely and Vesemir immediately looked alert. “I think it’s my change.”</p><p>Vesemir sat him down on the bench next to him and Geralt was secretly relieved. He hadn’t been that wobbly since they snuck half a bottle of White Gull into the dorms. The older wolf gave him a cursory sniff and hummed. When Geralt looked at his face, he could see Vesemir was pleased.</p><p>“I’ll excuse you for today, Geralt. Get some fluid in you and back to bed. This is a lesser change so knowing you, you’ll be up by tomorrow.” </p><p>Geralt nodded fuzzily and took the mug of tea shoved into his hands. Across the table from him Aubrey smiled. </p><p>“It’s good to welcome another beta to the keep, Geralt.”</p><p>Geralt hummed into his tea and gulped it down. A beta. Thank the fucking gods.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Geralt’s change was met with congratulations and with teasing. </p><p>“Of course the wonderful white wolf is a beta,” Gweld said, jabbing a finger in his ribs. Geralt swatted at him. “Lucky man, getting the easiest of them all.”</p><p>Geralt rolled his eyes but secretly was pleased. Being a beta meant he and Eskel would stay close, and that Geralt wouldn’t be putting any of his brothers on edge. If anything, he would be putting them at ease, making them calm.</p><p>“Wait, does that mean you drug people with your smell, now?” Frank asked, just dying to lean forward and sniff him. Geralt shot him a look that promised a quick punch in retaliation. </p><p>“Ask Eskel,” Gweld said. “Neither of us presented. We can’t pick up on that Quelling scent just yet, but alpha boy there can.”</p><p>Eskel had been desperately trying to read on his own bunk, and shot them a look over the pages. “Leave me out of this.”</p><p>“Come on, give Gerry here a sniff.”</p><p>Geralt kicked him. Fucking Gerry, how dare he.</p><p>Eskel rolled his eyes and got off of his bed. Since his change he had actually grown an inch or two. Geralt was the short one, now. </p><p>Geralt offered up his wrist, the easiest part to sniff and one of the strongest for Quelling, Vesemir had told him. Eskel bent his head and sniffed. His nose wrinkled, and he tried again.</p><p>“I smell a little bit?” He said, looking uncertain. “Not really much of anything.”</p><p>“Oh no he’s broken,” mourned Frank, stupidly.</p><p>Gweld tapped his toe. “I think you need to actually try to produce Quelling. It’s not just all over you.”</p><p>Geralt furrowed his brow. Vesemir had mentioned something to that effect. “How the fuck do I make myself produce it?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Gweld said, throwing his hands up. “I’m not you. Maybe it's just going to happen when it needs to happen?”</p><p>“Like a good boner,” Frank added. Gweld cuffed him in the head.</p><p>“Frank, if you happen to be an omega you will kill us all.”</p><p>Eskel scoffed and was back in his bunk, nose in a book. Geralt sat back and enjoyed as Gweld and Frank got into a wrestling match that ended up breaking a chair. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Frank didn’t end up becoming an omega. It was Gweld. </p><p>It was late fall by the time it happened, and Geralt knew something was wrong then they woke. </p><p>First of all, Gweld was already up, hair mussed and bedclothes soaked in sweat. He wasn’t dizzy or lethargic, he looked wild. The redhead was pacing his corner of the dormitories, teeth bared like some cornered animal. </p><p>Geralt’s first reaction was to investigate Gweld’s condition, but then he heard Eskel whine. </p><p>Eskel was in his bed, eyes wide and jaw clenched. He almost looked terrified, and he was clutching his bedding in a death grip. </p><p>The small sound had alerted Gweld as well, and the omega  turned and snarled at Eskel, teeth snapping. Geralt was out of bed and at Eskel’s side in an instant, but Gweld didn’t charge, he just continued his pacing.</p><p>“What the fuck?” Frank was finally with the living and trying to figure out what he was looking at. Gweld ignored him.</p><p>“Frank, go fetch an instructor. Tell them Gweld is presenting and he needs assistance from a beta,” Geralt said, crowding into Eskel’s side. He didn’t dare attempt to calm Gweld. He had no idea how to go about that. </p><p>“Why?” Frank asked.</p><p>“Fucking…” Geralt growled in frustration, “Frank, Gweld is an omega. He’s in his change. Get help, idiot.”</p><p>“Oh!” That seemed to pierce the moron’s skull, and Frank was up and out in a flash, leaving the door wide behind him. Gweld yowled and punched at his bed, breath heaving. Geralt could smell his distress and confusion, along with another, sweeter scent. </p><p>Next to him, Eskel shuddered. He made a noise like he was in pain and looked like he was fighting with himself to stay put. Geralt got into the bed next to him and wrapped his arms around him to keep him still. </p><p>“Gotta stay here, Eskel,” he muttered. “Can’t go over there. You can’t help him.” Eskel twitched in his hold and then twisted, burying his face in Geralt’s neck. </p><p>“Oh,” Eskel sighed. “Oh, that’s…” Suddenly Geralt found himself held tightly back, Eskel sniffing frantically at his neck, rubbing his face on his skin. Geralt was mildly startled before realizing what he must be doing. He didn’t know what he did to produce the Quelling, but apparently he could. Eskel was calming down, his heart rate slowing considerably. </p><p>They were interrupted as Frank returned, tailing two instructors. Aubrey rushed in quickly while Vesemir came behind. He looked over to Eskel and the elder’s face seemed to relax as he saw Geralt with him.</p><p>“Come down, Gweld, you’re alright,” Aubrey said, walking slowly up to the harried young man. Aubrey had always been soft spoken and at ease. No wonder he was a beta. “It probably hurts, doesn’t it? It’ll pass. Come on, let's get you somewhere comfortable.”</p><p>For a moment Geralt was sure Gweld would attack Aubrey, but as the older man drew in Gweld’s head seemed to clear. He looked more confused than anything.</p><p>“What’s happening?” He asked, voice cracking. </p><p>Aubrey pulled him in slowly, giving a careful embrace that could easily be broken. Gweld took it and clawed at his back for a moment before stilling. </p><p>“Deep breath, calm down.”</p><p>Geralt could see when the Quelling worked. Gweld blinked frantically and looked around, as if coming out of a dream. “What the fuck?”</p><p>“You’re having your change. For omegas it can be a bit, well, volatile.” Aubrey stepped back, but kept one hand on Gweld’s arm. “There’s a room you can relax in for a few days until you get settled. You’ll be alright.”</p><p>Gweld nodded numbly, letting Aubrey guide him out. Frank was in the hallway looking lost. </p><p>Vesemir gave Eskel and Geralt another glance. “You alright, boys?”</p><p>Geralt didn’t know what to say to that, but Eskel was on it, lifting his head and giving an affirmative. </p><p>Vesemir nodded. “Good job, Geralt. Good instincts. Sorry for the rude wake up, Eskel.”</p><p>“It’s alright,” Eskel grumbled, untangling himself. He looked worlds better. “Going to have to get used to that, aren’t I?”</p><p>Vesemir sighed and nodded. “It’ll get easier, at least that’s what Barmin says.”</p><p>Geralt patted Eskel’s shoulder and got off the bed. “I’ve got ya, Esk.” Now that he knew it worked, Geralt could be there when Eskel needed his help. Knowing he could ease some of the roughness of their lives was a relief.</p><p> </p>
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</p><p>Things smoothed out as winter came. Frank presented as a beta, preventing any further drama in their dormitories. Gweld was back to normal, and after a few weeks he and Eskel had their easy interactions back. The keep filled with witchers returning from the Path, first a few then several dozen. By the time the first dusting of snow settled, Kaer Morhen was alive and bustling.</p><p>Eskel was amazed at his newfound ability to sense the subsex of the older witchers, something he was fairly blind to before. Thomas was an omega, despite his impressive height, and Milo was a quite a potent alpha, regardless that he was lithely built. </p><p>Many of the other alphas welcomed Eskel enthusiastically, offering drinks and socializing with him. They gave him advice and warnings, told him tales of their hardships and the comical situations they had found themselves in. </p><p>The elder omegas took in Gweld as well, sweeping him off for talks and training. Geralt wasn’t privy to those discussions, but Gweld looked much happier for the interactions.</p><p>Geralt didn’t get the attention his peers did. Betas had less of an active role to play. Frank harassed Vesemir and Aubrey for some information, then dared to approach Lem and Travi when they returned from the Path. The beta witchers had little to offer, other than to be watchful and help when needed. It frustrated Frank, but Geralt was relieved there was nothing more grave in store for himself.</p><p>Still, he worried about Eskel, and Gweld. </p><p>Winter wore on, and their worries went to the Trial of the Medallion, which they would undertake in spring. The solstice was upon them almost by surprise, and then, one morning- Gweld was missing.</p><p>“I heard Aubrey and Thomas come and get him last night,” Frank said, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Don’t know why.”</p><p>Eskel shifted foot to foot, a sweat already breaking out on his forehead. He raised his trinket to his nose and sniffed it quickly. “I do,” he muttered. “He’s going into season. His fucking bunk reeks of it.”</p><p>“Oh, yuck,” muttered Frank, shooting a look at Gweld’s bed.</p><p>“Fuck off, Frank,” Geralt grunted, moving to rip the bedding off of the bunk. Eskel made an alarmed noise and covered his nose. “Eskel, get out. I’ll take Gweld’s stuff to be washed.” His brother nodded and quickly made for the door. Geralt shoved the bedding in Frank’s arms. Frank pulled a face.</p><p>“Hey, what the fuck?”</p><p>“Help,” Geralt growled, throwing a blanket over his shoulder and taking the bottom sheet. “That’s our duty to our brothers.”</p><p>Frank sighed, then carefully sniffed the bedding. “I don’t smell anything but sweat stink and maybe…” he trailed off, blinked curiously, “syrup?”</p><p>“Smells sweet,” Geralt confirmed. “Not much to us, but it had Eskel shook.” He shoved Frank in front of him to the laundry. “Let’s get it clean and get to breakfast.”</p><p>They dumped the bedding off into a waiting washbin, letting it soak away the scent, washed their hands, and headed up to the mess. Eskel was already eating, his shoulders in a hard line, head down. Geralt slid in next to him and unthinkingly offered his wrist. Eskel’s grip on his arm was almost bruising, and he sniffed desperately at Geralt’s skin. The tension began to bleed out of him.</p><p>“Thanks,” he muttered, returning to his breakfast. “This is insane. That scent is so much worse than when he presented.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s like fighting off the strongest Axii I’ve ever felt. Nearly fucking impossible. I wanted to crawl into his bed and be surrounded by it.”</p><p>“First time is the worst?” Geralt tried, helpfully.</p><p>Eskel wasn’t the only one affected by the incident. Apparently the smell permeated the dormitory floor and bled into the broader living spaces. Lem was making his way around the mess, letting the tense alphas hug and sniff at him, quelling the group. </p><p>They made it through the morning sessions, being strenuously worked by Vesemir helped ease everyone, and soon Eskel was knocking Frank on his ass like usual. They didn’t ask where Gweld was taken, just assumed he was taken care of. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Unfortunately, it was only the beginning. Gweld had gone into heat first, but it started an avalanche. By the time they returned for the evening, something had changed. </p><p>Eskel tensed as soon as the doors to the hall opened, grabbing at Geralt to bring him to a halt. Frank complained loudly behind them until Geralt shot him a look.</p><p>“What is it?”</p><p>“Someone else is in heat,” Eskel hissed, covering his nose. It didn’t do much good. Geralt sniffed the air and picked up the slightest sweetness. Much stronger than that was the smell of distress. </p><p>“Best head to the dorms, then Eskel,” Frank muttered, pushing past. Finally, something smart coming from him. “I’ll steal some dinner for you.”</p><p>Geralt pulled Eskel along, but they needed to pass the main hall to get to the corridor for their dormitories. Several witchers bustled about, and very few were talking. Geralt didn't know how he had missed these moments before, either too caught up in boyhood or two distracted by his instructors. Perhaps their teachers kept them in the dark intentionally.</p><p>They were nearly to the exit of the hall when a commotion broke out across the room. Thomas was arguing with another omega named Jona as they came down to the mess, snapping back and forth at one another. As they entered the room, several alphas quailed, a few of the smarter ones fled. Barmin made a strangled noise and clapped a hand over his mouth, then barked aloud. </p><p>“Alphas, your Quelling oil,” he snarled, grasping his own from his pocket. Those further away managed, but poor Milo and another witcher, Corian, were already approaching. Next to him Eskel made an aborted motion, but didn’t reach for his own vial. </p><p>Geralt watched in a sort of curious horror as the omegas noticed the alphas. Thomas looked absolutely predatory, eyeing up Milo and Corian like a man about to buy cattle. He grinned, teeth flashing. Next to him Jona, obviously not as far gone, looked worried. </p><p>“Why hello, boys,” Thomas growled, his whole being reeking of sexual aggression. “Think the two of you could be some use to me?” His pale yellow eyes swept the nearly empty hall. “Any other volunteers?”</p><p>Geralt jerked in alarm as Eskel broke away from him, moving to Thomas as if drawn by a string. Geralt grabbed at the back of the shirt and ripped it with the effort, but Eskel kept stumbling, growling back at him irritably. </p><p>Geralt became aware, someone belatedly, that he was the only beta in the room. Two omegas, one on the edge of his heat, five alphas and not a single beta in sight but him. </p><p>Gracelessly, he tackled Eskel, wrestling his larger brother to the floor. Eskel fought him, his aggression only aimed at someone keeping him from his goal, but Geralt was faster and not under the influence. He had Eskel by the hair, wrenching his head back with a hard pull and shoving his arm under his nose. Eskel bit at him and Geralt hissed and held steady, forcing his brother to breathe in his smell. </p><p>The change was slower, harder to drag back from the brink. For a moment, it was only Eskel and Geralt on the cold floor of the keep, locked in a strange and painful embrace. Geralt counted the beats of Eskel’s heart, willing it to calm.</p><p>He was brought back to the world by a pained yelp, and looked up to see that Thomas had pinned Milo to a table and was ripping at his clothing. Milo whimpered in pain, but did not move to fight back. </p><p>“Help!” Geralt roared, his voice breaking as he pushed it to the brink. “Help!”</p><p>The tableau before him was broken in seconds as other witchers flooded into the room. A few faltered and retreated, other alphas, perhaps even omegas unwilling to expose themselves and risk being triggered into their own heat. Thankfully, there were at least four betas flooding in, including, bizarrely, Frank.</p><p>Geralt was still pinning Eskel, but Travi was rushing in, Vesemir at his side, to pull Thomas off of Milo. Remus bolted down from a tower and swept up Corian, physically carrying the struggling alpha off. </p><p>Travi covered Milo, pulling him into a hug. The alpha collapsed against him, boneless almost immediately under Travi’s strong influence. Vesemir was having a more difficult time with Thomas, who was trying to fight him. Vesemir was wearing his training armor, so the punches and hits were blunted, and he was heavier than Thomas. The fight wasn’t the finessed battling of a witcher, but more akin to a drunken fistfight.</p><p>“Enough, Thomas!” He shouted, shoving into his space. “Thomas, breathe. We will help you.”</p><p>Thomas swung at him, teeth bared like an animal at bay. One lone leg swept out and nearly tripped Vesemir, and the instructor cursed and grabbed a vial on his belt. He uncorked it with his teeth and splashed Thomas in the face. </p><p>Thomas staggered and wiped at himself, then gasped. Vesemir had him in a headlock and drug him to the ground where he lay, dazed. Geralt realized that Vesemir had thrown a full bottle of the Quelling oil in Thomas’s face. </p><p>“Geralt,” Eskel moaned from under him, “I’m okay. You’re pulling my hair out.”</p><p>“Sorry,” he muttered, releasing his friend. He rolled off of him and helped pull Eskel up and set him in a chair. “You alright?”</p><p>“Not going to rush over to blow Thomas if that’s what you're asking.”</p><p>That was what he was asking. “Good. Going to go help.”</p><p>Barmin looked level, but another witcher near him, a man named Erro, looked ready to jump out of his skin. Geralt walked up to him wordlessly and offered his wrist.</p><p>Erro grabbed his hand carefully, not as aggressive as Eskel’s unlearned yanking, and breathed deeply, nose not touching Geralt’s skin. They stood like that for a moment as the Quelling worked, until Erro was relieved. </p><p>“Thank you, brother,” he said, voice rough. He looked exhausted. “I am relieved you were here.”</p><p>Geralt nodded and moved on to check in on the other alpha. He was surprised to find Frank sitting next to the man, a very quiet witcher who rarely wintered at the keep. The older man had his nose buried in Frank’s messy hair. Frank looked stunned, but oddly pleased with himself. </p><p>‘What the fuck?’ Frank mouthed to Geralt. He fought not to roll his eyes and made his way back to Eskel.</p><p>Across the room, Travi had taken Milo away and Vesemir still had Thomas on the floor. Lem ran in, looking harried and in full armor. He’d been out on patrol.</p><p>“Oh Thomas,” he said, crouching down to pick him up. The omega was limp and bleary eyed, but smiled at Lem. “Let’s get to the watchtower, love.” Lem shamelessly kissed Thomas on the forehead and the omega crooned. </p><p>Vesemir grumbled irritably, but waved them off, commenting that the tower was supplied and ready for them. </p><p>“Lem and Thomas?” Eskel asked at Geralt’s side. “Didn’t see that. Least he has someone to take care of him.” He yawned hugely and swayed on his feet. “Fuck, I feel tired.”</p><p>Barmin was on his feet, scanning the room. He gave Eskel a look. “Get to bed, pup. Those surges take a lot out of you when you aren’t used to them.”</p><p>Eskel nodded a salute and made for the dormitory they failed to reach earlier, Geralt on his tail. </p><p>“I have to deal with this every winter, now?” Eskel groaned, stripping out of his clothing, sighing at the rip that they had made in the neck of it. Geralt didn’t feel sorry.</p><p>“I’ll be here,” Geralt said, sitting on his bed. “I’ll get better at helping you. You don’t need to worry.” </p><p>Eskel smiled and tried to hide it in the collar of his nightshirt. “Thanks.”</p><p>Geralt waited until Eskel was settled before he changed clothes and headed to the mess. He wrapped some bread and cheese for Eskel to snack on if he woke early, and ferreted it back to the dorm.</p><p>When he entered the room. He saw that his own training clothing was missing from where he had set them. Geralt peered over at Eskel and saw his shirt tangled in the young man’s fist, pressed to his cheek like a child did to a doll. Eskel was sleeping deeply, his breath slow and rhythmic. Geralt set the food near his bunk and snuck out of the room again, closing the door softly behind him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next, we jump ahead to meet a bitchy Lambert.</p><p>P.S. Eskel and Geralt non-sexual though this fic. That doesn’t mean they aren’t in an in-depth and loving relationship. Think of it like an asexual romance.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Embers in the Cold and Dark</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>We pick up our story near 50 years later.</p><p>Without Geralt nearby, Eskel finds himself gravitating to a different wolf. This one, unfortunately, is much more feral.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>CW: Specific mentions of torture, vague mentions of rape.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Part Two: Embers in the Cold and Dark</strong>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Eskel already knew the winter would be rough; Geralt wasn’t coming. He sent a letter through to Vesemir that autumn, letting him know he was delayed too far south to make it in time before the snows hit. He also sent word he had found Remus’s remains while on a contract, and had buried them. That solved the mystery of where the old wolf had disappeared to the year before.</p><p>There would only be three of them in the keep this year. The smallest number yet. He tried not to think on that too hard. Geralt not being able to make it was difficult news. Geralt was his buffer, a steady hand and a reassuring voice, sometimes a warm body at night when they both needed the reprieve. </p><p>Now, that would be missing. This winter would be a test to his resolution. Most of it would be easy- practicing and reading, long talks with Vesemir and games with Lambert, but the weeks after the solstice, he would need the most help he could get. </p><p>Eskel walked the damaged walls of the keep, jumping over the gaps where the stone had fallen away. He knew the damage well enough to traverse the space blind, and kept his eyes on the trail up to Kaer Morhen. Far below, several hours out, he saw a horse and traveler.</p><p>He knew it could only be Lambert. Eskel kneeled on the wall, settling into a position to meditate. He needed the calm before the roiling storm that was the youngest wolf burst through the gate. </p><p>Lambert came into the courtyard several hours later the way he did most things, loudly and irritably. </p><p>“Guess who’s fucking back?” He hollered, leading in an equally ill tempered mule burdened with supplies. “I brought some booze! Oh, hey Eskel.”</p><p>He didn’t bother hiding the smile as his brother spotted him. Lambert looked tired, but well. He wasn’t as ghastly thin as years before, and there were no glaring injuries on his person. Eskel still remembered decades ago when Lambert returned to the keep with his face sliced down the side, a rookie mistake with a werewolf, cutting him in long lines from hairline to jaw. He’d made sure to train that winter on defensive maneuvering. </p><p>Now, Lambert looked like a man who had been on the trail for weeks; tired, dirty and ready for some food. </p><p>“Hello Lambert,” he said, bringing him in for a hug. It was quick, never lingering, but it gave Eskel enough time to draw a singular breath of him.</p><p>He tried so hard to avoid scenting Lambert. It was a dangerous game to play with himself. Outside of the deep of winter, the omega’s smell was not enough to rile him, but it wasn’t the scent of omega that made Eskel drunk, but Lambert himself.</p><p>He’d always liked the sharp spice of him, the smell of sweat and deep woods and alchemy. It mixed to make something unique and invigorating and entirely recognizable as Lambert. The scent was healthy, not poisoned with injury. Eskel drew several breaths after, clearing his head. He knew Lambert probably did the same check as they embraced, though what he smelled on Eskel, he had no idea.</p><p>“You brought booze?” He asked, eyeing the mule.</p><p>“Fuck yeah I did. Here, help me with this shit.”</p><p>Together they unburdened the mule, and Eskel put him in the stables next to his own gray mare. He made sure the animals had food and water, and promised to be back later to brush them both down. Lambert was in the process of hauling the supplies up to the keep, bitching to himself the entire time. Eskel swallowed his laugh and grabbed the last of it.</p><p>Most of the supplies were for communal use, dried foods and alcohol, various kits for mending and raw materials they used every year to maintain their weapons and armors. Lambert dumped it on a table in the main hall and made his way to his quarters. Vesemir popped his head out of the mess.</p><p>“The brat home?” He asked. There wasn’t any ire behind it, yet. He’d give them an hour before they were yelling at each other.</p><p>“Yeah,” Eskel said, picking out the foodstuffs to put in the larder. “It’s a full house.” He tried to keep the tightness out of his voice. If Vesemir noticed, he didn’t say a thing.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>They made it through dinner without Vesemir and Lambert having a growling match, but that ended when they gathered up the dishes.</p><p>“I don’t need your shit, old man,” Lambert barked, tossing his plate in the wash bin. “So keep your nose out of it.” It was a stupid argument, most of them were. Something about the morality of a particular contract. It was a minor thing, and Vesemir was always far too harsh with Lambert, too critical. The younger wolf fucked up royally and often, but this was hardly one of them.</p><p>Eskel stepped between them, shouldering Lambert playfully. His brother glared at him, but relented, rolling his eyes.</p><p>“I’m going to have a fucking bath,” he said, stomping from the mess. “Then I’m getting good and drunk. Eskel, you in?”</p><p>“Yes sir,” Eskel said, turning back to help with the dishes and winking at Vesemir, who huffed and let the subject drop.</p><p>“You tell him about Geralt’s letter, yet?” The old wolf asked, rolling up his sleeves and grabbing the dishrag.</p><p>“I will.”</p><p>“He’s not going to like it,” Vesemir grumbled.</p><p>Eskel sighed and wiped off the wet plates Vesemir handed him. “I didn’t like it, of course he won’t.”</p><p>“Better you tell him than me.”</p><p>The news wouldn’t be welcome either way, but Eskel couldn’t argue that he would be the better messenger.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Eskel started drinking before Lambert returned from his bath, working on a warm buzz to build up to the bad news. Lambert came down from the tower with a lot more energy than he should with a day of travel at his back, nearly leaping the last several steps. Eskel saw the reason for his excitement clutched victoriously in his hand.</p><p>“Check this shit out!” He said, flipping the bottle from hand to hand as he launched over the back of the chair and sat the landing. “I got this moonshine from some fucking hill folk in the Kestrels. Didn’t know humans could make stuff this strong.” He took a swig and winced, which alarmed Eskel somewhat. Lambert did not wince at alcohol. He corked it quickly and tossed it to Eskel, who opened it cautiously.</p><p>Lambert waited until Eskel had a mouthful to speak again. “I think they use it to clean wounds though.”</p><p>Eskel managed to swallow most of it, but enough went up his nose to burn his sinuses. He coughed and flipped a rude gesture at Lambert, who was cackling joyously.</p><p>“It does the job either way!” He said, reaching for the bottle and drinking again. Eskel wiped his eyes and nose, fighting the prickling burn. </p><p>“That is a medical substance,” Eskel said, his voice strained as he fought a cough. “You are a maniac.”</p><p>“I can’t wait to get Geralt to take a shot. Want to see what pretty boy looks like with a nose full of shine.”</p><p>Eskel took a deep breath. Here was the subject he needed to address. “Geralt isn’t coming this year. He got stuck down south.”</p><p>Lambert paused mid-swig, then put the bottle down. “The fuck? So it’s just us three? We hear anything from Remus?” Eskel didn’t wince, but Lambert read it on his face anyway. “Fuck, what other fucking news you need to lay on me, Eskel?”</p><p>The news about Remus was much worse than Geralt, at least for Lambert. Remus had been a beta, and he had helped Lambert through many a heat. The quiet man was reliable and skilled, and Lambert had settled on the beta to assist him a decade ago, when his previous partner had fallen on the Path. When Remus hadn’t shown the year before, they assumed the worst, and Lambert had his first celibate heat in years with only Geralt tentatively checking on him.</p><p>Eskel cleared his throat and made sure to make eye contact with Lambert. “Geralt found Remus,” he said, folding his hands in front of him. “He was killed on a contract, a striga.” Lambert cursed and rubbed his medallion. “He made sure to lay him to rest and took care of the striga, but it was a close call for Geralt as well.”</p><p>“A fucking striga,” Lambert said, shaking his head. “Better off trying to kill a higher vampire. Damn it, Remus.” He grew quiet and wiped his hand over his face. Eskel saw, for a moment, a look of genuine mourning before Lambert caught himself slipping and locked the feeling away. “Geralt’s alright?” He asked.</p><p>“Yeah. Got his neck torn out but managed to live.”</p><p>“Fucking Geralt,” Lambert said, incredulous, then again, “damn it, Remus. Stupid. I’d never take a job like that.”</p><p>Eskel raised his own drink, something less lethal than Lambert’s. “To Remus, good witcher, good man.”</p><p>“What a grouch,” Lambert said, raising his poison. “Still, he helped me when he didn’t need to and did a good job at that.” He took a swig and groaned. “Fuck. Another good dick lost.”</p><p>Eskel did not snort his drink again, but it was a close thing. “Gods, Lambert. Have some respect for the dead,” he tried, thinly.</p><p>He got a toothy grin in response. “When I die, I want people to talk about what a good lay I was. It’s one of my best qualities.”</p><p>Eskel drank again, this time out of self-preservation. He tried very hard to never think about what Lambert was like in bed. He managed to kick that thought to the back of his mind for years, until one night, when an off-handed comment from Remus put it in his head. </p><p>“That boy, he’s a surprise,” the old wolf had said after Lambert tucked in for the night. He’d been loud and brash, teasing Geralt and picking fights, antsy in the shortening days. Eskel made a curious noise, too drunk to see where the conversation was going, and Remus continued. </p><p>“He’s all vinegar the rest of the year, but in his heat? Never seen an omega as sweet and needy.”</p><p>Eskel fought hard to not make a facial expression, but his heart picked up at the idea. Lambert, sweet. Needy. It was anathema. It was something he didn’t know he wanted.</p><p>Remus must have taken his silence as encouragement, or perhaps didn’t care, and continued. “Helped quite a few of our omega brothers over the years, not like it's a hardship, and I didn’t think I’d enjoy him as much as I did.” Remus chuckled to himself. “Didn’t think he was much to look at, but then again, hadn’t seen him naked yet. That is a sight, that boy laid out and wanting.”</p><p>Eskel did make a noise, then, something close to a whine he tried to hide in a grunt. Remus looked amused, but didn’t go on, and changed the subject like he hadn’t said anything alarming at all.</p><p>On second thought, perhaps Remus wasn’t such a good man. Eskel had trouble keeping his mind off of what the old wolf had said for years now, and Lambert casually mentioning it set him off all over again. </p><p>As nonchalantly as he could, Eskel lifted his medallion to his nose, giving it a deep sniff. He would need to make a lot more oil this year, and perhaps up the potency. Without Geralt, he needed the artificial Quelling to support him. Vesemir was aging, and his pheromones were waning with him. He would be of little help.</p><p>“Guess it’s another year in a solo heat,” Lambert bemoaned, not helping Eskel’s state in the slightest. “And Geralt isn’t even here, shit. Can’t stay in the keep. Guess I am going to go on the worst mid-winter camping trip, ever.”</p><p>Eskel shook his head. Ever since the watchtower and outbuildings were destroyed, it was harder and harder to find a good space for an omega to take their heat. Still, he did not like the idea of Lambert out in the cold. “We can find a space for you here.”</p><p>The other wolf rolled his eyes. “Not going to put you through that, Eskel.” He didn’t have to elaborate. They both knew that Eskel would be tormented by the scent, and without Geralt there to quell him like the year before, it would be dangerous. </p><p>“Then I’ll take a week in the wilds,” Eskel said. “Having a heat alone in the woods is dangerous, and why bother when I can be the one to leave? Vesemir will be fine, and be able to keep watch.”</p><p>Lambert scowled. “I’m not letting that fuck Quell me, Eskel. No way.”</p><p>“You don’t have to. Be feral for all I care, just do it in a warm spot where Vesemir can get you regular hydration.”</p><p>Lambert scoffed and rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue. “I’ll need dick, not hydration,” he grumbled, tucking back into his drink.</p><p>Eskel didn’t know how to respond, so he didn’t.</p><p>
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</p><p>Eskel worried that without Geralt the winter would be difficult on him, and in some ways it was. What it wasn’t was boring. Lambert seemed to take Geralt’s absence as a cue to spend all of his free time with Eskel.</p><p>“You and Geralt are attached at the hip. Bet it feels like you’re missing a limb,” Lambert said one evening over cards. He had solicited a game every night, and they drank most nights. “Damn pretty boy is probably basking in the southern sun, and you’re stuck here with me.”</p><p>“Prefer this,” Eskel muttered, and Lambert did his best to pretend not to hear him.</p><p>They only had each other to train with, and Eskel knew Lambert’s swordwork well enough to fight him blind. They invented new ways to change up the dance- first trying a hand behind the back, then hobbling their legs, then actually blindfolded. </p><p>“How is it I can fight you but then trip on a loose stone?” Lambert groused, stomping on the offending stone in the snow-cleared courtyard.</p><p>“Stone is probably less predictable,” Eskel said, taking off his own blindfold. There was a rime of ice forming on the flagstones. Lambert had a bad habit of slipping on ice. Eskel formed a concentrated Igni, sending a steady stream of fire in a wide sweep, boiling the ice off into steam and clearing the ground. He did the steps outside every other day since Lambert nearly broke an elbow a few years back. The man was a surgeon with a sword, but ice could take him out.</p><p>“Fuck that’s awesome,” Lambert said, watching Eskel melt the ice, hands on his hips. “I wish I could maintain it like that. Bet you could smelt metal with your signs alone.”</p><p>“Absolutely not,” he said, dropping the Igni and shaking his hand. “No way to get it that hot. Would be useful, though. Certainly save me money at the smith.”</p><p>“They do love to charge a witcher extra, don’t they? Fuck, should have been a blacksmith. They make so much coin off of me.”</p><p>Eskel made his way back to the keep, Lambert in tow. It was getting dark earlier and earlier. The longest night would come soon. “Think you’d make a good alchemist, actually.”</p><p>Lambert snapped his fingers at that, shouldering the heavy doors to the hall shut as they stepped inside. “That reminds me, I have something for you in my room. Get changed and stop by.”</p><p>They stored their gear and separated. Eskel never wore his armor around the keep, choosing instead to lounge in woolens and long, thick tunics. Lambert was much of the same, but with even more layers. The young wolf was much more sensitive to the cold than his brothers, and he wrapped himself up in more and more layers as winter wore on. </p><p>Warm and comfortable in fresh clothes, Eskel slid down the hall to Lambert’s room and knocked. </p><p>“Yeah, come in!” Lambert said, slightly muffled. Eskel opened the door to Lambert fighting with a heavy wool shirt, his head and arm tangled. He was cursing colorfully, and Eskel would have laughed at him if it wasn’t for the stunning look he got of Lambert’s bare abdomen and hips. </p><p>Remus had been right: he was a sight. Eskel was built thick in the chest, and his waist was low and less slender. Lambert’s chest was broad, but his waist was trim and led to narrow hips. It made his legs look long and showed the defined cut of his pelvis and flat stomach. Eskel very nearly groaned at the sight of the dark, silky hair that trailed down below the hem of his trousers.</p><p>“This fucking- Eskel, some help?” Lambert snarled, flapping an arm at him, the sleeve waving ridiculously.</p><p>He really did laugh at that. “How the fuck did you manage to get caught in your own clothing?” He pulled the sleeve and untied it where it was wrapped around the other. Lambert grumbled and pulled it on. The shirt was enormous and soft, made from thick, brushed wool, nearly felted with age. </p><p>“It hasn’t been out of his trunk in two years, I don’t know what it was doing in there all tangled, but at least the moths haven’t eaten it.” Lambert lifted his arms. The sleeves were too long and hung slightly over his hands. “How the fuck? Remus was NOT this big.”</p><p>Ah, it was one of Remus’s. Lambert had probably helped himself to the Witcher’s possessions once he learned of his death. As the person closest to him, it wasn’t inappropriate. Valuable things shouldn’t be wasted. </p><p>Eskel disliked the strange tightness in his chest at the thought of Lambert wearing Remus’s clothing. Did he miss him?</p><p>Had he loved him?</p><p>“This would probably fit you better,” Lambert mumbled, pulling at the extra space in the shirt. “I look like I am wearing a tent.”</p><p>The oversized piece of clothing, for it surely was enormous, actually looked nice on the young wolf. It was a natural cream color, and probably the only non-black thing Eskel had seen on him. Nevermind the size of it made Lambert look weirdly charming. </p><p>“Could probably wear another few thick pieces under it since you tend to freeze,” Eskel offered.</p><p>“Fuck yes, that would be great.”</p><p>He should have been prepared for what was next- hell, he even suggested it, but Eskel was struck dumb when Lambert whipped the shirt off and tossed it onto his bed. </p><p>“Easier to escape than to get into,” said Lambert, bending down to his clothing chest for more shirts.</p><p>Eskel bit the inside of his cheek hard, but was not able to look away from the bare expanse of back in front of him, well muscled and criss-crossed with white scars. As he dug through the chest his muscles moved beautifully under his skin, reminding Eskel of the time he saw a big cat in a king’s menagerie. </p><p>“These will do.” Lambert straightened and turned, holding two new shirts. He dropped one onto the bed and fiddled with the buttons of the other. Eskel swallowed noiselessly as he got a better view of the straight shoulders and defined, furred chest. He’d seen Lambert naked before, just not since Remus put the fucking image of him writhing and begging in his head. Now, it was like looking at someone entirely new.</p><p>Lambert threw the first shirt on, relieving Eskel of his torment, and then pulled the second over it. Eskel assisted him with the massive wool piece, snorting out a slight laugh as they finally got the layers sorted.</p><p>“Should keep you comfortable,” Eskel said, amused at how Lambert was still drowning in the shirt, but now fluffy looking as well.</p><p>“I look like a dumbass,” he bemoaned, tugging at the hem. “But I do feel warm.”</p><p>“I won’t tell anyone you look like a dumbass.”</p><p>“A truly good man, that Eskel,” Lambert teased, using his ‘Vesemir’ voice. It sounded nothing like Vesemir, which only made it funnier to Lambert. “Anyway, why are you here again? Oh fuck, yeah the thing. Alchemy!” Lambert waved Eskel over to his desk, which was really a horrific mess of a work table. </p><p>“Should you be brewing these things in here?” Eskel asked nervously. It was Lambert’s bedroom, not exactly the best place to be mixing poisons.</p><p>“Calm down, mother. I do the oil in here, those aren’t going to combust. At least not as easily.” It was very reassuring. “I have been working on making a batch of Quelling oil. Tweaked the recipe a little, thought you could give it a sniff and see if you liked it.” He held a bottle up, swimming with a rosy red oil. Eskel gave it a sniff and shuddered. He felt his pupils widen automatically.</p><p>“That good?” Lambert asked, seeing the reaction. “Never knew how it felt for alphas. Mostly makes me feel buzzy and mellow.”</p><p>Eskel leaned back and pulled a breath to clear his sinuses. It was so close to the real thing Eskel felt an immediate sense of comfort in the scent. “That’s brilliant. Good job.”</p><p>The very tips of Lambert’s ears flushed the slightest bit of pink. “Got some heat-relief recipes from human herbalists. Noticed lots of similarities. Took those into account and tried to get the best of both.” He busied himself with corking the bottle and wiping it down. It was a fairly hefty amount. “I made a big batch this time so you could get in on it, what with Geralt being a lazy bitch this year.” He handed the bottle over nonchalantly, but his breath stuttered when Eskel’s fingers brushed his. “So yeah, anyways.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Eskel said, suddenly aware he was quite close to Lambert and quite soothed. </p><p>Lambert nodded and stepped away from him. “Yeah, whatever,” he muttered. “Let’s go see if Vesemir made some dinner.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
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</p><p>It wasn’t as if they never fought. Eskel and Geralt got along seamlessly, and Geralt and Lambert were, at best, neutral to one another. Eskel was glad he and Lambert were closer than that, that they were brothers in arms and friendly and enjoyed each other’s company. At least most times.</p><p>“Not everyone’s perfect like you, Eskel. Mr. Pride of Kaer Morhen. Teacher’s fucking pet!” Lambert barked at him, stalking across the hall towards where he hid his still. Eskel knew he’d probably spend the rest of the afternoon drinking, nixing any plans to enjoy a quiet, drama free night of games.</p><p>“I’m not perfect, quit acting like a brat,” Eskel seethed after him. He was following Lambert, and he didn’t know why. The short, cold days and long dark nights were driving them all a little mad. It was hard to keep a good mood when shrouded in darkness and cold. The solstice was only a day off, and then the light would slowly return. “I’m just saying you could have made a better decision.”</p><p>They were recounting contracts, and Lambert had let something slip. He’d killed a man. The young wolf had been hired to deal with missing young women- a vampire was suspected, although none were spotted. The townsfolk just relied on superstition. Lambert took the contract and investigated, but had found no evidence of a vampire. He’d only tracked down a man, the alderman’s son, and found evidence he was the one behind the missing women. </p><p>“What decision would that be, Eskel? He was selling them, and the alderman was allowing it. The contract was private; one of the girl’s families. The alderman was forbidding investigations because he knew his shitlicking son was kidnapping them.” Lambert kicked in the door to his brewery. The smell of acrid booze and hot mash was like a slap to the face. “Didn’t look like he was being nice about it either. Seven young women, snatched up and ferried off to the south and daddy protecting his venture.”</p><p>Eskel leaned against the wall, watching Lambert clamor about as he yelled. The younger witcher was always brimming with energy, especially in his rages. “You could have brought him to the townsfolk, brought evidence. They would have tried him.”</p><p>“His daddy would have prevented that,” Lambert snapped, flicking a wild Igni at the mash boiler. The still groaned and a small spout of steam issued from the pressure release. “Better I do it and bring the families evidence of what happened. Found paperwork of where the girls were sold.”</p><p>“Not before you decided to behead him and roast his corpse,” Eskel muttered.</p><p>Lambert was a fast man, more agile than any other wolf- whether it was from his omega nature or his mutations. Eskel barely blinked and Lambert was on him, pressed in close and furious, a hand iron-strong on his throat and teeth flashing. In the low light of the room, his eyes glowed. Eskel stilled and allowed the hold, docile and unthreatening. Something told him it was the smart thing to do.</p><p>“Oh I didn’t just behead him,” Lambert snarled. “I peeled him first. I pulled his teeth, his nails. Skinned his legs up to his hips. He died from blood loss, not from a lack of a head.” Eskel’s heart stuttered once in genuine surprise at the cruelty he heard seeping into Lambert’s voice. “You know why?”</p><p>Eskel knew he didn’t need to answer, but he did. He brought one hand up to delicately brush the back of the hand clenching his throat. He could still breathe. Lambert was pinning him, not killing him. “Why?</p><p>“Because I know what he did to those girls, Eskel. He told me, thinking I would bring him in and get him the noose instead of hurting him further. Told me everything.” Eskel heard the flash of pain in Lambert’s voice, a harsh choking. “He had to try the goods, had to have them first. All of them were omegas, just presenting. Barely women. He branded them with owner’s brands. Beat them in so they wouldn’t fight. Broke the legs of a few so they couldn’t run.” Lambert was shaking, his pupils barely slits. “Kidnapped, raped, tortured and sold- all because of what they were, because omega women sell for more. Seven lives ruined so a rich brat could get his rocks off. Fuck him. I wish I did his father, too.”</p><p>He leaned back, his hand loosening but not releasing. “Tell me if you could have handled that better, Eskel?”</p><p>“Would have just incinerated him,” Eskel whispered. “Why get my hands dirty with that filth?”</p><p>Lambert nodded loosely, but his anger was still palpable. “There are things that get to me,” he admitted. “And that’s one of them. So few good people and happy families, and so many who seek to rip them apart.” Eskel knew he was talking about more than this case. He was talking about witchers as well. He couldn’t stop his hands from reaching out and touching, grabbing at Lambert’s ribs and pulling him in. </p><p>Eskel felt so strangely pliant, and wanted to share it. Lambert nearly collapsed against him in the strange hug, and finally released the hold he had on Eskel’s neck to grip hard on his shoulder. They stood, chest to chest, with their temples pressed together.</p><p>“We kill monsters, Lambert,” he said, barely audible, “not men. Things like that, they’ll get you hanged.”</p><p>Lambert tucked his head further, and Eskel nearly gasped at the hot breath on his skin. “But I did, Eskel,” he whined, a broken, strange sound from someone so furious. “I did kill a monster.”</p><p>Eskel wasn’t aware of time, but had a feeling that they weren’t standing there for only a moment. He had his nose in Lambert’s hair, and the other witcher had moved his hands to Eskel’s hips. Lambert’s heartbeat was elevated, and his breathing fast. Eskel could feel the tense strumming against his own chest. He didn’t like that Lambert was so upset. Eskel was the reason he was riled up, and he wished he could be the one to calm him.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he said, muffled into Lambert’s hair. It felt so good brushing against his lips. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>Lambert quivered, made a noise like a wounded animal and pressed in closer. His body was a bright line of heat, burning all down the front of Eskel’s body, a sharp contrast to the cold stone wall at his back. They had never been this close. Eskel tipped back his head, something telling him to bare his throat, to be still and obedient. </p><p>He gasped when soft lips and harsh teeth scraped across his skin. His legs shook. His brain lit up with need.</p><p>“Lambert, back up!” A new voice snapped, sharp and commanding. An Aard untangled them, sending Lambert stumbling away and knocking Eskel’s head to the wall. “Eskel, your Quelling.”</p><p>He blinked toward the open door, confused. “What?”</p><p>Vesemir stood in the doorway, his hand raised to cast another Aard. The first seemed to be effective, however, because Lambert was shaking himself and looked genuinely shocked. “Oh fuck,” he said, gaze shifting between the two other witchers frantically. “Shit. Eskel, I am so sorry…”</p><p>“Get up to your room, Lambert,” Vesemir said. It wasn’t unkind, but firm. Lambert’s face crumpled in worry. Eskel hated it. “I’ve got him. Go, right now.”</p><p>The young wolf obeyed without complaint, probably for the first time in years, and ran from the room. Eskel stared dumbly after him until Vesemir approached. He grabbed Eskel’s medallion and shoved it under his nose. </p><p>Clarity came like a dose of White Honey, burning the fog away and leaving a sharp, harsh reality. Eskel was reeling. He hadn’t been under the effect of an omega like that in years, and his body was confused. </p><p> “Seems his season is coming a bit before solstice this year,” Vesemir said. He flicked off the fire on the still and led Eskel out into the hall. “I’ll get a camping kit ready for you, you wait down by the mess.”</p><p>Eskel nodded, his head going a mile a minute. “Packed a bag in my room.” He’d already been prepared for a hasty retreat, just not so soon. </p><p>“Good.” Vesemir left him in and Eskel made it to the mess, quickly grabbing dried and preserved foodstuffs to last the week. Vesemir returned with his bag and rolled up some extra furs around a bedroll. He would need the warmth.</p><p>“Thank you,” Eskel muttered, shouldering the bag and gear. It wouldn’t be fun, but he could manage with a good amount of supplies. Vesemir knew he wasn’t just saying it for the kit. </p><p>“Pays to have an owl’s hearing,” the old witcher said, and did not expand on it further. </p><p>Heading out in the dark wasn’t ideal, but he could manage. He needed to get a half of a mile distance, just to be safe. Lambert would be soaked in Quelling oil for the week, but his scent could still carry through an open window, and he didn’t want to risk it. Eskel remembered the look of guilt and shock on Lambert’s face. He would get some distance.</p><p>The old watchtower was half-standing. Its upper floors were all but gone, but its lowest floor had some protection from the elements. It didn’t pile in snow and it had two-thirds of its walls, allowing for some protection. Eskel had a waxed canvas he could put up to block most of the wind. </p><p>They cleared the harpies earlier before the snow, and Eskel had left a few sturdier supplies out in the tower for when they were needed. The floor was cleared of ice with several quick blasts of Igni, and he stretched and propped up the canvas as a lean-to with it’s back to the open wall, and set his bedroll under it. He’d already stashed wood and set up a fire to keep the cold at bay. </p><p>Eskel sat on his bedroll, chewing a piece of jerky and staring into the fire. He still felt remnants of Lambert’s scent, and he was full of strange tension. The undercurrent of arousal was secondary to the desire to please. His body pleaded with him to find the scent again, but his body was wrong. </p><p>He grumbled to himself and unpacked his bag, looking for another layer to put on for the night. Something soft and woolen and cream colored was shoved hastily into the pack. Something he hadn’t put there. </p><p>Eskel pulled out the oversized shirt Lambert had taken from Remus. He smelled something lovely, something like lavender and sandalwood and moss. He pressed it to his nose and groaned. Lambert had rubbed Quelling oil through the wool, ridding the shirt of its natural lanolin smell and replacing it with the mellowing scent. Eskel pulled it on, burying himself in it. Lambert could have worn this for his heat, could have used this for himself. Instead, he’d grabbed it and shoved it in Eskel’s bag, gave it away so he could feel safe and warm in the wilds. </p><p>Eskel nestled down, the scent of the oil making him tired. The furs would keep the wind from piercing in, and he was tucked and warm, the campfire dancing. He rubbed the soft wool neckline against his lips and nose. </p><p>Tomorrow would be the longest night of the year, and Eskel would be alone in the cold and dark. He didn’t much mind that.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
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</p><p>The week staying in the frozen tundra was not pleasant, nor was the week in the warm keep after that.</p><p>Lambert was studiously avoiding Eskel.</p><p>After weeks of near constant company, the change was unpleasant, and considering the last time they were near one another, it made Eskel rather agitated. </p><p>He was a patient and avoidant man. Eskel steered clear of trouble when he could, and did his best to temper himself when he was in the thick of it. The first few days were easy, but whether it was concern for his brother’s wellbeing or the lingering scent of a burned out heat permeating the walls, by the sixth day Eskel had enough. </p><p>He tracked Lambert down from where he had hidden himself in one of the lower laboratories. It was filled with old alchemy equipment, most of it useless. Lambert had done what he could to the space and brewed his more toxic blends there. He even had a reinforced corner for making his collection of bombs.</p><p>The man was clanging about, muttering to himself about a missing formula, only to quiet as he heard Eskel’s heartbeat on the stairs outside. There was no alternate route to escape, so he was well and cornered. Eskel heard a colorful litany of swears as he opened the door.</p><p>“You can’t fucking leave well enough alone, can you?” Lambert groused, pretending to busy himself with the papers he was shifting through. “Can’t just let me do my thing.”</p><p>“You mean hiding from me? No. Gave it a few days. Didn’t like it.” Eskel flicked on a torchiere, casting more light across the room. Why Lambert liked lurking in the dark, he never knew. </p><p>There was a stool near the work table, and Eskel sat on it, wincing as it creaked ominously. Lambert shot him a glare, but didn’t tell him to leave.</p><p>“I’m not hiding, I’m busy.”</p><p>“So busy you don’t eat in the mess, anymore? So busy you don’t bother popping up once a day to let anyone see your face?”</p><p>He must have found the paper he was looking for, because Lambert grunted in satisfaction and snatched up the notes, turning to a boiling mixture further down the table.</p><p>He looked awful, Eskel realized. His eyes were sunken and bruised, his skin almost waxy. The heat must have run him ragged. </p><p>“Are you alright?” Eskel asked, forgetting his ire momentarily. “You look like shit.”</p><p>“Thank you,” he responded curtly, “I feel like shit.”</p><p>“A bad heat, hm?”</p><p>Lambert sighed, picking up a package of dried powder and measuring a small amount. When he responded, it was very quiet. “Yeah. Awful.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.” Because he was. Having the weakness and blind loyalty of a rut was one thing, but Eskel couldn’t imagine how a heat felt. Being so desperate for touch you became volatile? Being both defensive and needing intimacy, wanting to be held and wanting to tear into the one who held you? Eskel had heard so many horror stories over the years of omegas killing their alphas by accident because they dared to try their heats alone, or because a heat snuck up on them. What a horror, to wake from the crazed state to find you’d killed your lover? Eskel couldn’t imagine.</p><p>And Lambert was alone for the second year in a row. His body would grow more and more desperate with each solo heat.</p><p>“No,” Lambert said firmly, “I’m sorry.” He set the notes and packet down and looked at Eskel. His face was grim. “I could have injured you. I had you pinned and drugged and was losing myself. That’s unacceptable.”</p><p>“I should have noticed before it got to that state,” Eskel said, trying to take some of the burden himself. “I will do better next time.”</p><p>Lambert shook his head. “It’s not your responsibility.”</p><p>“You didn’t hurt me, Lambert.”</p><p>A fist slammed hard on the table, making the glassware rattle. “I could have!” He shouted, his body a line of tension, a drawn bow. “I could have torn your fucking throat out and you would have let me!” Eskel could smell his distress over the pungent chemicals around them. “It’s not going to happen again.”</p><p>“We will do better next year,” Eskel offered. “But for this winter, it’s over.”</p><p>The younger wolf turned back to his work, righting what he had rattled back into position. “I’m making a decoction. Something to help with repression. It’ll keep the pheromones from leaking out of me pre-heat and dampen them during. They were working on a formula pre-pogrom and nearly had it.” He waved the notes at Eskel and adjusted the burner. “I’m going to finish it, and you’re not going to harass me about it.”</p><p>Eskel stared at the beaker, wondering what horrible side effects would come with such a decoction. Lambert probably wouldn’t tell him even if he asked.</p><p>“Alright. Do you need help?”</p><p>That must have been unexpected, because Lambert looked up at him, eyebrows raised. “What?”</p><p>“I’m good at research, or I could just be the guy chopping and grinding ingredients. What would help?”</p><p>The other man stared at him, mouth falling open and shutting a few times, incredulous. He recovered, and gestured to a pile of books. “Those are Master Theodore’s notes on top- he did most of the experimentation. Try to see if there was a difference between the echidna tissue power and the lamia tissue powder. I have about six variations of those bitches and I don’t know if it matters or not.”</p><p>Eskel plucked up a book and lit a candle, flipping to a marked page. “On it,” he said, hiding a smile as he saw Lambert stare at him for a moment before getting to work.</p><p>In two weeks they had a decoction that passed Lambert’s approval, and they were back to their new, amicable normal.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
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</p><p>Once their project was complete, Eskel plied Lambert out of the laboratory and back into the growing daylight with promises of Gwent and alcohol. He’d started eating meals in the mess again, and butting heads with Vesemir, so Eskel figured Lambert was back to baseline. </p><p>This meant, unfortunately, that Eskel was getting regularly whipped in Gwent.</p><p>“I’m folding!” He announced loudly after the fifth defeat, simply shoving over what was left of his coins. “This is no longer a good time.”</p><p>“Speak for yourself,” Lambert said, raking in the money and fattening his wallet. “I’m having a great time.”Geralt would have to come home next year. Lambert needed the smug look wiped off his face. </p><p>Eskel put his cards away and grabbed the bottle of wine he was working on, setting it on the small table by the sofa. He plopped down on it and grumbled. Feeling too warm, he pulled off the coat he’d left on from earlier when he checked the goats and horses, and threw it over the back of the lounge.</p><p>Lambert, still enjoying his win, launched himself over the back of the sofa and nearly ended up in Eskel’s lap. His aim was as drunk as he was. </p><p>He cackled and shifted around, sitting properly. “Almost kicked you in the head, there. Can’t kick your ass and your head. That’s rude, even for me!”</p><p>Eskel snorted and took a drink, then realized Lambert was staring. “What?”</p><p>Yellow eyes were focused on the cream-colored wool of Eskel’s shirt. He realized that his coat had been hiding it, and that Lambert didn’t know Eskel was still wearing it. He typically wore it to bed and it’d been through the wash, but he had refreshed the Quelling oils in the collar. </p><p>Lambert reached out and touched it, running his fingers down Eskel’s arm. “Looks nice on you,” he said, ears pink.</p><p>Eskel thought Lambert would look nice on him, too. He almost said as much, but had trouble saying much of anything. He leaned into the cushion and smiled. No wonder he had lost so many games. He was sloshed with drink.</p><p>“Kept me warm,” he finally managed to say, plucking at the soft wool. “Thank you. Helped.”</p><p>“Yeah, well it was my fault you had to do that,” Lambert grumbled dismissively.</p><p>“Not your fault.” Eskel shrugged. “We managed.”</p><p>“We did.”</p><p>They sat quiet for a moment, and Lambert calmed down, the strange tension of seeing the shirt and hearing kind words leaving him. Lambert was much like an irritable cat- warm one moment and angry the next. You never knew if you were going to get a purr or a hiss.</p><p>What Eskel would give to hear him purr.</p><p>“Hm?” Lambert muttered, blinking curiously. Eskel had reached over and tugged at him, making Lambert slant his way. He reached up to pet at the dark silk of his beard. </p><p>“Your beard suits you,” Eskel mumbled. “It’s like you.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Looks rough, is soft.”</p><p>“M’not soft,” Lambert said, a little petulantly. He stuck out his lip to be a brat, but it only made Eskel look at how plump they were. He raked his fingernails through Lambert’s beard and enjoyed the way his breath stuttered.</p><p>“Like it,” Eskel hummed, realizing he was close enough to see the orange flecks in Lambert’s eyes, the way the yellows caramelized into something darker near the pupil. </p><p>Lambert hadn’t moved away from him. If anything, he was being drawn in by Eskel’s fingers on his jaw, the gentle touch a tight snare. Their breath mingled and Eskel wanted.</p><p>“Oh,” Lambert said, just before their lips touched.</p><p>The kiss was warm and soft, reassuring. Eskel tilted his head, pressed in further and sighed as he felt the mouth against his move in tandem.</p><p>The tentative nature of the kiss changed, became more confident. Lambert whimpered against his mouth, the sweet vibration of the noise reverberated between them, swallowed and echoed. Eskel felt his chest swell joyously. This was what he had been wanting. This was perfect.</p><p>But Lambert retreated too soon, pulling free from the affection like it was alien to him. The sudden gap was akin to missing a step. Eskel opened his eyes to Lambert’s tight, cold expression. </p><p>That wasn’t right.</p><p>A hand grabbed his medallion, flipping it to expose the trinket on the back with the oil and sponge inside of it, and pressed it to Eskel’s nose. </p><p>“Clear up, Eskel.”</p><p>He was confused for a moment, with the silver of his medallion against his skin and Lambert looking both determined and injured. The smell of the Quelling oil tickled his senses, but did nothing more. His brain caught up with the situation and he felt his heart sink.</p><p>Eskel took the medallion back slowly, sitting up. “Lambert. I’m not being affected by your pheromones.”</p><p>The other witcher laughed. In the quiet it was jarring, like the bang of a door or the breaking of glass. “Yes you are. Fuck, I thought I was back to normal, but here I am, seducing my poor brethren.” He stood up, making quick strides to the stairs. “I’ll take a dose of the new decoction. Make sure to freshen up your oils.” He bounded up the stairs. “Night, Eskel.” </p><p>Eskel stared into the fire, at a loss. No part of that interaction had anything to do with Lambert’s heat pheromones. He hadn’t even smelled them. He had only been drawn in by Lambert himself. The cantankerous man with a soft underbelly, a surprisingly tender heart fueled by fiery need for retribution. He hated people, but he loved saving them. He wanted to protect whatever he could from the cruel world around it. He was funny, and dark, and handsome, and ferociously loyal, and Eskel loved him. </p><p>Eskel loved him.</p><p>“Well, shit,” he muttered, and sat with that realization well into the night. </p><p> </p><hr/><p>
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  <br/>
</p><p>He spent the next few days in the library, pulling biology books and essays. He found a good amount, some of it ancient, some of it more modern pieces he or Geralt brought back with them. He bookmarked each one, even daring to underline entire passages in the books. </p><p>He left one in the laboratory, open to the page he wanted. </p><p>-An omega’s mating pheromones omit 2-3 days from the beginning to the end of their estrus season. Those particular pheromones do not exist in the sweat or skin or other effluence outside of those times.-</p><p>He left another in the brewery, next to the still notes.</p><p>-It’s noted that even in witchers the duration of time of the heat pheromones are not different for that of non-altered humans.-</p><p>He left one tacked right on Lambert’s door.</p><p>-Alphas and omegas have no hormonal effect on each other outside of the time of heat, often during the winter solstice. This allows for normal relations between alphas and omegas for the remaining 51 weeks of the year.-</p><p>“You drove a nail in my door,” Lambert complained, slapping the essay he’d left onto the table in front of Eskel. “You fucking woke me up hammering a goddamn pamphlet to my door.”</p><p>“I’ve got more,” Eskel said, taking a spoonful of porridge.</p><p>“Fuck off,” Lambert said, plopping down across from him at the table. He stole Eskel’s plate of eggs.</p><p>“You’ve read them?” Eskel asked, watching his brother wolf down the eggs gracelessly. Table manners had never been his thing.</p><p>Plate clean, Lambert glared up at him. “I read them.” </p><p>“And?”</p><p>“There are always outliers,” he said, shrugging.</p><p>“Not an outlier,” Eskel said, finishing off his bowl and standing. He plucked up Lambert’s plate, too. “Not taking it back.” Eskel walked back to the mess to wash the dishes, and threw a comment over his shoulder. “I’ll do it again if you like.”</p><p>Lambert sputtered behind him, taken aback. Eskel heard him stomp off to his brewery. “That man’s fucking crazy,” the young wolf muttered, retreating to his den to mull it all over.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The rest of the winter moved quickly. Lambert didn’t avoid him, but they didn’t kiss again. His usual, catty flirting was absent, and Eskel took it for an answer to his question. He tried not to be too heartbroken, but the idea that he was rejected still stung. </p><p>It was softened by the fact that Lambert spent time with him, working on formulas and sword fighting in the great hall. The young wolf was careful with his proximity and his jesting- there were no more fights, no more nastiness thrown impulsively in each other’s face. The easy interactions were a balm, a consolation prize.</p><p>The snow melted early after a hot week, good for Kaer Morhen but bad for anyone downriver of the Gwenllech. </p><p>“I’m heading down early,” Lambert announced one evening. “Going to leave tomorrow. With all this warm weather the pass has opened up and the river is swollen. It’s going to absolutely fuck everyone from here to Ban Ard. There is going to be a drowner infestation all spring.”</p><p>Vesemir hummed and nodded in agreement. Eskel knew he was right, but hated it anyway. </p><p>“There’s going to be another storm in a few days, you sure that’s wise?”</p><p>Lambert gave him an unamused look. “Well since I am leaving that asshole of a mule here I can make better time. I plan to cash in on drowner heads for the next few months, give me a buffer in case there’s a slow season.”</p><p>“It’s smart,” Vesemir said. “I’ll pack some food for you to get you down the mountain. Need anything else?”</p><p>“Nah.” Then, because Lambert wasn’t always a right bastard. “Appreciate it.”</p><p>Vesemir nodded and made his way to the storage to see what they had. That was the key for a healthy relationship between those two: extremely brief conversations about logistics, and nothing else. Eskel sighed, and accepted the fact he was soon to be alone on the Path again.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Lambert set out early, the sky cold and clear and barely touched by light. Vesemir waved him off and Lambert gave him a half-assed salute. Eskel walked him to the gate, and then a little further.</p><p>“Coming with me, Eskel?” Lambert joked, glancing back at Kaer Morhen behind them. “I don’t think you’re dressed for this.”</p><p>“No, just wanted a little more time,” he admitted, unashamed.</p><p>“You fucking smooth shit,” Lambert growled, annoyed. He stepped into Eskel’s space, looking like a man about to pick a fight. Eskel didn’t know what to prepare for until a kiss was pressed to his lips, warm and brief and filled with promise. As quick as it began it was over, leaving Eskel with the ghost of a touch. He frowned curiously, and Lambert rolled his eyes.</p><p>“Had to think about it,” he said, planting his hands on his hips. “Don’t make it a big deal.”</p><p>“I hope you know that means I am going to kiss you.” Eskel said. He felt exhilarated, like he had taken the first breath of mountain air after a sweltering summer. He tried to fight the grin at his lips. </p><p>“You’ll have to wait,” Lambert said, adjusting his bags. “I’m off to save the world.”</p><p>Eskel grabbed him by the collar, dragging him in for another kiss, this one longer. Lambert nipped his lip, leaving a stinging twinge as he pushed away. </p><p>“Don’t get slow, Eskel.” </p><p>“I won’t. Stay alive, Lambert.” He gave up on hiding the smile, and outright grinned at him. Lambert’s ears flushed pink and he turned away, making his way down the path and out into the world.</p><p>Eskel stayed there, watching, long after he was out of sight.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Can you tell I love Lambert? Can you?</p><p>Also... like it was 12k to get to a fucking kiss are you kidding me? I swear to god. I need to accept that this whole story is going to be vignettes and just get over that.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Rough Hands May Mend</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lambert comes home to a problem. Eskel has a hard time. Geralt just wants to help.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>CW: blood, somewhat graphic descriptions of surgery</p>
<p>Note: I used Witcher 1 lore for this.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Part Three: Rough Hands May Mend</strong>
</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert spent the entire season on the Path thinking about what might happen that winter. He went through stages: disbelief- Eskel wouldn’t want him come winter, anxiety- how would Geralt take it, and most of all, excitement. There were so few pleasant things in his life, and Eskel had been one of them for a long time, now. He was the more friendly of the two -he and Geralt never got on all too well, and Lambert had been excited to have the amicable alpha to himself, regardless of the shit circumstances.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When the nights shifted to something cooler and the trees began to change their leaves, Lambert found himself heading north filled with something he could only call optimism. It only made what he found there all the more unwelcome.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They had an uninvited guest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her name was Deidre Aedemyn. She showed up just as Lambert did, with no explanation other than destiny and Eskel owing her his protection. She was a strange young woman, wild-eyed and fierce, an omega with chaotic energy even more daunting than Lambert’s. She was keen and quick, and had two black wolves trailing her everywhere she went. Vesemir fed her and gave her shelter, letting her camp inside the walls, but not in the keep. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is she doing here?” He asked Eskel, who was on edge and secretive about her presence. The larger witcher looked cowed by the small woman, almost as if she were some harbinger. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I expect we will know soon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Two days later, a small war party of mercenaries knocked on their door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert disliked them all immediately. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There were dwarves and men and an elf guide, all of them patched together with coin. He couldn’t slight a man for taking a job- his living was the same, but they were in his territory. The one who held the coin purse was the real issue. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was a foppish milksop who called himself Prince Merwin. He claimed to be Deidre’s younger brother. He was pompous played like a puppet, driven by a sorceress named Sabrina. She was even more detestable. Mages had their subsexes eliminated in their schooling, but he had no doubt she was an omega beforehand. She was commanding and expected obedience, and failed to impress Lambert with her wiles. Mages were all false beauty- paint over rotten wood. He saw through her and snarled at her request.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They wanted Deidre, who was the heir-apparent to Merwin’s throne. Merwin wanted to capture her and have her concede her title, jail her for some apparent crimes. The witch wanted to dissect her and look at her body for apparent signs of a curse. Something about being born on the wrong day and a black sun.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert didn’t care. Fucking politics. No one came to Kaer Morhen demanding the head of someone they were housing, even if she was uninvited. Besides that, Lambert would never side with a mage. He prowled the gate and the bridge, made sure no one got too close to the keep. He didn’t like this invasion to his sanctuary, didn’t like the way Eskel was quiet and furtive, tormented by something he refused to talk about.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was beyond relieved when Geralt showed up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The white wolf took one look at the situation and set to work trying to right it. Lambert had a lot of complaints about Geralt, but his ability to attack a problem was not one of them. He was also, remarkably, much better at talking to people than Lambert. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When the truth was revealed, of at least as much of it as they could suss out, Lambert sided with Deidre. Being blamed for your birth, abused and then hunted left a person desperate. She was Eskel’s Child of Surprise, and so she was kin. He didn’t want to keep her around, but he also didn’t want to see her ripped open by some foul witch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Deidre went to work out an agreement and the wolves offered their support. Everything looked to be ending peacefully. Deidre relinquished her throne and Merwin agreed to let her go, but then Sabrina had to open her poisonous mouth. Deidre, the wild woman that she was, rose to the taunt. Their fight was sudden and bloody, but all Lambert cared about was that at the end of it, Eskel was laying face down in the dirt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Geralt! Vesemir!” Lambert yelled, throwing himself down next to Eskel. He heard the other wolves running up on their position. There was blood soaking the soil all about Eskel’s head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The panic he felt was offset with the cold calm that took over in a crisis. He carefully rolled Eskel, supporting his neck in case it was injured, and fought back the sympathetic sob that caught in his throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The right side of Eskel’s face was shredded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert heard Geralt curse and Vesemir was on Eskel’s other side, quickly checking for further injuries. It seemed the face was the only point of impact, and the pain of it knocked him out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We need to get back to the keep,” Vesemir said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert went to carry him, but as he lifted him up Eskel stirred, moaning painfully.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Got to get you inside, Eskel. You’re hurt. Can you walk for me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The other witcher whimpered, but got his feet under him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Geralt, we have Eskel. Deal with this,” Vesemir barked, and Geralt was off, chasing down Deidre and her coward of a brother. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They moved as fast as possible, Lambert propelling them along, trying not to become overwhelmed with the scent of Eskel’s blood. Vesemir ran ahead to prep medical supplies. The long walk through the courtyard was one of the worst moments in his life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel groaned and moved, his hand coming up to touch his face. He tapped his fingertips over his right eye, no doubt checking to see if he was blinded by the strike or by the blood. Lambert desperately hoped his eye was intact. A half-blind witcher was a dead witcher.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t touch it, darlin,” Lambert said, dragging them up the last few stairs. “Keep your hands off of it. I’ll take care of it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vesemir wrenched open the door for them and put himself under Eskel’s other arm. Medical kits and potions were splayed out on one of the tables in the main hall, and all the braziers were lit. Lambert scooped Eskel up effortlessly and deposited him on the table, laying him down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve got you,” he said, splashing his hands with alcohol to clean them. “Let me look.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vesemir handed Lambert a jug of water, and he carefully held Eskel’s nose closed as they poured it over his face, flushing away the blood and dirt so they could see the damage.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Internally, Lambert screamed at the gods.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Four jagged lines cut brutally down Eskel’s face from hairline to chin, slicing almost diagonally. The worst two were the centermost on his face. One ran to his brow and nearly caught his eye, hooking again into his cheek and splitting it to the bone. It ripped down through his lips. Lambert could see Eskel’s gums and teeth through the gouge. The second slice next to it was deep enough to show the horrific white of his skull up on his forehead. The other two were of less concern, but still brutal. Lambert swallowed his bile and let his experience guide him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eskel, darlin, I’ve got to stitch this.” He said, grabbing for supplies. Vesemir was right there, handing him everything fully prepped. “It’s going to hurt, but you cannot move on me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel pulled a rattled breath. His left eye was barely open, peering up at Lambert. The younger wolf let his fingers stroke the unblemished side of his face, the last painless touch he would be giving him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Vesemir,” Lambert said, not taking his eyes off of the situation before him. “Do you have any Spider?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a rare potion, barely used at all. Lambert never carried it, but if anyone would have it around, it would be Vesemir. Spider was had little use outside of Kaer Morhen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bottle was set within his reach. It was small and square and contained a glimmering, foggy liquid.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Spider first, stitch and then Swallow?” Lambert asked. They could use some coagulant, but Spider and Swallow were more important and would bring him near toxic. The less they gave him, the better. Swallow would have do the job of regenerating his blood as well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Agreed,” Vesemir said. He brought a candle in closer to help see every detail.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert uncorked the Spider. Its smell set off strange and unpleasant memories in the back of his mind. “Okay Eskel, I need you to open as carefully as possible and drink this.” He wanted to avoid Eskel moving his mouth, but this was essential. Lambert carefully propped up his head to prevent choking.  Thankfully, Eskel was cognizant enough to listen, and parted his lips just enough to let the potion be poured in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good job,” Lambert whispered, settling him back down. “Okay Kelly, you’re going to get real fuzzy. Remember Spider?” It was used often on witchers who needed experimentation or surgery. Sometimes it was applied during the Trail when an initiate was too volatile. It was a repulsive potion, but he needed it now. “You’re not going to be able to do much but blink at me. One for yes, two for no.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He saw it work almost immediately, Eskel’s body going corpse-stiff. Spider was a paralytic and a mild anesthesia. It would blunt some pain, but it wouldn’t erase it. Lambert needed Eskel to be motionless for this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, Eskel. I’m going to clean it out and start on the lip.” Vesemir handed him a bottle of clear spirits. It would hurt terribly, but they needed to make sure they didn’t suture any dirt into the wounds. Lambert flushed them quickly and carefully, moving what little loose flesh there was to clean the raw edges. Eskel’s eyes were shut, and the Spider made it impossible for him to wince, which was ideal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Regardless, the pained moan that came from under Lambert’s fingers made his chest ache. “I know, darlin. I know,” he said, trying to make his voice as soothing as possible. “You’re alright. I’ve got you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The wounds clean, now came the hard part. Vesemir already had the needle ready, threaded with catgut. They would need to stitch in layers, the innermost to connect muscle and the outer to close the skin. Lambert chose the worst split of muscle, the lips and chin, first.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He started at the bottom lip, where the path forward was clearest. The muscle of the lower lip was easier to connect with the small sutures, and he could bridge the gap to close it off. The upper lip was, unfortunately, a nightmare.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “Shit, there’s so much loss,” he said, trying to line up the edges. Flesh must have been torn away, because the gap was large. Vesemir leaned in to look. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“These muscles to there?” He asked, relying on the old Wolf’s knowledge of anatomy. Vesemir nodded and showed him how they connected. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The internal sutures were the most nerve-wracking. If he failed to connect a severed muscle correctly, Eskel may not be able to move part of his face. Once the muscle was reconnected they moved to the skin, debriding the edges that were already clotting so that they would connect better.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was minimal skin loss through the brow and cheek, but the lip was the worst. With the missing flesh and sewn together like it was, it was very likely it would split, leaving a gap in Eskel’s lip. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They smeared an ointment over the wound closure to keep the edges clean and protected, then wrapped Eskel’s face in fresh linen. They needed his mouth uncovered to administer Swallow, but had to wait for enough Spider to wear off so he didn’t risk choking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert scooped Eskel’s immobile body up to his room and undressed him. It was like moving a corpse, the stiffness of Spider lessening to a catatonic limpness. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vesemir brought up extra linens for later, and some food and drink.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lambert,” the old wolf said, setting the dish on a chest near the bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pushed a mug of ale into Lambert’s hand. “You did very well, lad.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert drank deeply, downing it all in one go. “Thanks,” he muttered. “What about the party? Deidre? Where’s Geralt?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vesemir sighed. “Deirdre worked it out with Merwin and drove Sabrina off. Geralt made sure of it. They’re all leaving.” He ran a hand through his grizzled hair. “I’ll still take a gate watch tonight. You stay with him. Geralt will be in soon. I updated him briefly.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert nodded and gave Eskel a look over as Vesemir took his leave.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eskel, you hear that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel opened his eye and blinked once. Yes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Everything is safe. Do you think you can get down a Swallow?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright. Come on.” Lambert settled himself alongside Eskel, carefully sliding his arm under his head to help prop him up. He poured slowly, letting gravity do most of the work. He watched the veins around Eskel’s uncovered eye bulge as the toxins burned through. The potion would regenerate the lost blood and encourage the healing of the wounds. Facial wounds ran a severe risk of reopening, and the faster the skin knitted, the better.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert set Eskel back down and reached for the ointment to smear it over the exposed wounds on his mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Want me to try to cast Somne on you?” Lambert asked, trying to make Eskel comfortable. “I don’t know if I can get one strong enough.” One hand came up, signing ‘no’, then the letter ‘m’. “Ah, you want to meditate? Good idea.” Lambert didn’t move from where he had settled in the bed next to him, nearly falling off the end but barely caring. He was laying on Eskel’s left side, settling his hand over his chest to feel his breathing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t mind me,” he hummed, gently touching his forehead to Eskel’s hair. “Tired. Just need a moment.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert didn’t know if he meditated or fell asleep, but he stirred when the door opened, carefully extracting himself from the bed. Eskel’s eyelid fluttered, but didn’t open. His body was exhausted and it was no surprise he drifted to sleep from meditation. Normally, the witcher would be awake at the slightest sound, but Spider had lingering effects of drowsiness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How is he?” Geralt was near silent as he crept in. He looked horrible. His face was drawn and eyes sunken. Lambert didn’t blame him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’ll make it,” he said, giving Geralt space to look over Eskel’s prone form. The beta leaned in and drew deep breaths, no doubt trying to smell how his friend was faring. Lambert didn’t know how useful any of that was; the whole room smelled of blood and astringent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“His eye?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Untouched, thank the gods.” He weighed his next words carefully. “There’s going to be permanent damage. I did what I could, but he was hit so hard- I don’t even know who did it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Deidre did,” Geralt growled, pulling a chair up to Eskel’s bedside. “She missed a strike at the sorceress, hit Eskel instead. She lashed out with her bare hand.” That explained the four lines. “Mage said Deirde absorbed magic. She must have lashed out with it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fucking hell,” Lambert groaned, running his hand through his hair. It stuck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt looked mildly amused. “Clean yourself up. I’ll stay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert looked down at his hands and saw they were stained with blood, tacky with ointment. He was still wearing his armor. He was filthy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt smiled at him, a small thing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s alright, Lambert. Wash up, we’ll be right here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For once, he listened to Geralt.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel woke after ten hours. Lambert bathed, ate and slept, then urged Geralt to do the same. The white wolf was a little harder to move, but finally budged after Lambert complained about his stench. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert settled in, carefully trying to check Eskel’s bandages. They would need changing. He barely touched the stained linen when a hand shot up to grab his own.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, big guy,” Lambert said, twisting his hand to entwine their fingers and give him a squeeze. “Good to see you’re up- I have to change those.” He helped Eskel sit up, bunching a fur behind his shoulders  to support him. “Need something for pain?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel grunted and signed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Thirsty</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t move your lips. Broth or water?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Water</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert grabbed the cup and helped tip the liquid into his mouth. The water soaked the edges of the bandages. “Got broth and can make porridge too,” he said, letting Eskel finish the cup. “Keeping it bland for now. Spider makes you prone to vomiting.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Thank you</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He set the cup back down and reached for the fresh bandages. “Course.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>For healing</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Eskel signed, sitting still as Lambert peeled the linens off. He kept his face neutral as he exposed the healing wounds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve been there before, know how to do it in a mirror.” He remembered that all too clearly: cleaning out the gashes on his face, dripping blood all over the rented room, struggling with a small mirror as he stitched his own face back together. He’d barely been  eight years out on the Path and he got his face sliced by some maniac werewolf. That was one of the lowest days of his life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel kept his right eye closed, the swelling pretty much preventing anything else. The wounds were seeping and swollen, but shut. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>How bad</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert took a clean cloth and dabbed away the purulence. “You‘ll live.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel huffed</span>
  <em>
    <span>. Bad</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert continued to work. “Your eye is good,” he said, working on the delicate injuries. “Joined the severed muscle in your cheek.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel raised his hand and gestured to his lip. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert reached for the ointment, scooped some onto his fingers. “The bottom lip closed up well. There was skin there to stitch.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Gone</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Eskel signed, tapping his top lip.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s some damage to the upper lip,” Lambert began at his chin, sliding his fingers gently over the freshly stitched flesh. He needed to tell the truth, but it was such a painful thing to tell. “Some flesh missing,” he said. “You’re lucky you aren’t blind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Where</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They left. Deidre found a balance with Merwin. She struck you accidentally, she claims.” He rewet his fingers. “Geralt said she was a sink for magic, but I don’t see any other way to rip your face open like that. She had to have some of her own. Uncontrolled chaos.” He spread the last of it up to Eskel’s brow. It would be better if he didn’t cover them up right away. They needed to breathe. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m glad she’s gone,” Lambert said, screwing the lid back on. It was strange having a half-silent conversation. Hand-talking was useful, but Lambert was nervous, and Eskel’s voice always calmed him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unfortunately, there was an exception to everything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I deserved this.” Eskel sounded raspy and pained, no doubt a mix from the combinations of potions he had swallowed and his own stress. The immobility of his lips made him barely discernible.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel had abandoned Deidre as his child surprise. Her life as the cursed princess had been rife with horror and abuse. She claimed it was his fault for not taking her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No one could read the future, and no one could predict a princess would live a better life in an empty castle than with her family. Eskel had left her where she was. He had no way to know it would lead to the mess it did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert sighed. “No, Kelly, you didn’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel grunted and laid down again, and Lambert reached for another bottle, a poppy mix he’d made up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, take this.” He offered the vial. “For the pain.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel shook his head and pushed it away. Lambert was certain he would have rolled away and turned his back on him if his wounds allowed it. The omega fought a snarl. He knew Eskel was in pain. He knew how much those injuries hurt. There were so many nerves in the face, and Eskel’s wound was extensive. He was in agony.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wouldn’t take the tincture because he thought he deserved the pain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please.” Lambert almost didn’t recognize his own voice. He didn’t sound like that, like someone on the verge of crying. He was just so angry; Eskel may have messed up, but he didn’t deserve anything like this. “Please take it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One eye watched from a battered face, and for a long moment they were frozen there, stuck in a stalemate. Then, Eskel moved, taking the potion from his fingers and slowly propping himself up again. Lambert helped him tip it back, relieved. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The poppy was strong enough to kill a human, and it made Eskel’s eyelid droop within the minute.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll tell Geralt you woke up,” Lambert said once he’d settled down again, making to stand. A hand landed on his knee.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Stay</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Eskel signed, sighing as the drug works its wonders.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert stayed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next few weeks were a special kind of hell. Eskel was on his feet in only a day more, but he was difficult. Lambert had trouble getting him to eat properly. Vesemir made softer foods for him, but Eskel would refuse them. He’d stopped speaking verbally, so at least he wasn’t stressing the injuries in that manner, but he was also avoiding any extra care.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert wanted to scream. His bedside manner was shit, and normally he would just tell Eskel to fo fuck himself and stop with the self-flagellation. He was also aware that that sort of behavior was not going to work.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he did the smart thing, and recruited Geralt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If there was one thing Geralt and Lambert had in common, it was their sheer stubbornness. Eskel ate because Geralt tenaciously followed him with various bowls of mash and glared until Eskel gave in. Eskel received wound care because Lambert always had the liniment on him, and would set it down ominously on any surface and wait. Eventually Eskel would sigh and Lambert would be on him, rubbing the oil into the scar tissue to help soften it. He’d reward Eskel with a few hours of peace until he needed it again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert and Geralt formed a team that harassed Eskel into good health, but it was apparent the worst injury wasn’t his face. The scars devastated Eskel’s mood. He was quiet and withdrawn, and even Geralt with his near lifetime of experience was at a loss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Normal humans comforted one another, Lambert knew that much. He wasn’t an idiot, and he did remember his sweet mother and her soft words after his father had beaten them both bloody. She made him feel safe and loved. Lambert had no experience doing that at all. He wasn’t good at using his words to fix things.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel didn’t sit with them after meals, didn’t play cards, didn’t talk or drink or jest. He retreated every night. Sometimes Geralt cautiously followed him, sometimes not. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you do, when you follow him up?” Lambert asked after watching Eskel retreat for another night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing,” Geralt said. “I just sit in his room. Read a book,  work on notes. Sometimes he tells me to leave, most times he just goes to sleep.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That sounded fucking useless. “Does it help?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt grunted and shrugged. “Better than doing nothing at all.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert supposed that was true.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Other than helping with wound care, which he was now so proficient with that Eskel started doing it himself, Lambert didn’t do much but hover awkwardly. He fought back his worst instincts to draw negative attention to himself with crude jokes and teasing- that was unhelpful to everyone, and he wanted Eskel happier, not hating him. Instead, he had to do the much more difficult thing: he had to be patient and he had to be soft.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was nearly impossible for him. No one coddled Lambert after his face injury. They told him it happened to everyone and that he needed to get better at dodging. At least, that’s what he thought, but the longer he looked back on his own injury, the more he saw the small attentions that helped him through it. Alek showed him the liniment recipe that would help soften the scars and lessen his pain. Remus made a comment that the scar was rougeish. Milo commiserated with Lambert by telling him a story of when he’d been bit in the ass by a werewolf, and got them both laughing. And Eskel- well, Eskel spent hours upon hours that winter teaching Lambert better forms for his guard. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert wasn’t good at subtle. He was loud and pushy and brash. He wanted to grab Eskel and tell him he was still handsome and still noble and Lambert still very much would like to kiss him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the end he didn’t do exactly that, but it was a close thing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> The temperatures dipped as winter deepened, and Lambert’s mood dropped with it. Everywhere was cold, and he was having trouble sleeping. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At least, that was the excuse he was going to use. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel’s door was locked, but that never stopped Lambert. He was an ace at lock picking and had it open in a few seconds. Alerted by the scratch of the pick, Eskel was sitting up in the dark, face closed off and watchful as Lambert crept in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Eskel grunted, voice sleep-rough and irritable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“M’ cold,” Lambert whined, up on the bed before Eskel could protest. He wiggled up against the wall side so he couldn’t be shoved out. “Budge over.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lambert.” It was not so much a warning as a curse, and the younger wolf ignored it altogether. He slipped his way under the blankets and furs, making sure to poke Eskel with his cold feet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Feel that? Freezing,” he complained, nestling down. Eskel stared at him and finally gave in, settling down again. Lambert threw an arm over his chest and pulled himself close. He pressed a kiss to the side of Eskel’s head and immediately felt stupid for doing so. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The other witcher froze under his hands for a moment, almost as if he were confused by the gesture, but eventually turned away. Lambert wasn’t about to be dismissed, and crowded Eskel’s back, wrapping his arm around his ribs and nosing into his hair. It was warm and comfortable and it was the kind of soft Lambert could let himself get away with.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On the fifth night of letting himself in, Eskel started to leave the door unlocked.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As soon as the solstice turned, Lambert started dosing himself with his new potion in preparation for the surge in pheromones. He isolated himself a little more often as the window of time closed in, but he hoped his scent would be dulled and his impulses in check enough to be unobtrusive before his heat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Over the spring, Vesemir had spent time fixing up the watchtower. He’d enclosed the lower level and built a fireplace. The roof was makeshift and needed to be cleared after a snow to prevent a collapse, but it was much better than the open air. Lambert spent a lot of time prepping the place for his stay. He knew he wasn’t about to let Eskel out there in his condition, so the omega had drug as many comforts as he could into the old tower.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The morning it came, Lambert was lucky enough to sleep in his own room the night before. The combination of potion and his last two years of unsatisfied heats made predicting the onset difficult, but he’d guessed right. He woke frustrated, hot and horny.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert took a swig of the potion, hoping it kept him level-headed enough to get him out of the keep. He was packed and ready to go, and he left before there was even a hint of light on the horizon.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where’s Lambert?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was the first time that Eskel had said anything to him unprompted in two days, and of course it was related to Lambert. Geralt fought the urge not to roll his eyes. Eskel may have been depressed and sulking, but he was still obvious. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Watchtower, probably.” Geralt was more observant than Eskel was at the moment. His brother was distracted by his new mutilation and guilt, Geralt was not. He noticed Lambert stopped eating two days ago, a sign he was in preheat. At first he was surprised Eskel didn’t smell it, but he recalled Lambert telling him about a new potion they’d concocted- some sort of suppressant. It must have worked if it made Eskel nose-blind to an oncoming heat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel cursed, getting up from the bench at the mess for no reason but to pace. “Fuck,” he muttered, “I was supposed to be the one out there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not in your state,” Geralt remarked, not bothering to pause his lunch for the conversation. Eskel glared at him, which he ignored. “Vesemir fixed it up. He’ll be comfortable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He could have stayed here.” Eskel raked his hand through his hair. It was greasy, unwashed and unkempt. He’d been neglecting himself in his misery. “It’s big enough, and you’re here to quell me if I get-” he gestured vaguely, “frustrated.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt grunted and continued eating. He highly doubted that Eskel would be fine around Lambert’s heat. His stress and their unsettled emotions would make it worse, and Geralt didn’t want to be tackling them for a week trying to keep their dicks out of one another. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel sat back down, but he was twitchy. He drummed on the table with his fingertips and kept glancing at Geralt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Geralt groused, knowing what was coming.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you check on him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t hide the roll of his eyes and the huff of annoyance. It wasn’t that he was annoyed to check on Lambert- it was that he was annoyed Eskel was waiting until now to show he gave a shit about the poor pup in the first place. Lambert had been sulking after him for weeks, and Eskel had all but acted like he was a burden. Now he chose to express feelings in return?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, Geralt,” Eskel pleaded, his face softening. Geralt was getting used to the scars, to the way Eskel’s expressions looked slightly different. It was still Eskel, still obviously himself. Lambert really had done a wonderful job stitching him back together. From what Vesemir said, Eskel could have lost his whole upper lip and cheek.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Give him a day or two, and I will,” Geralt conceded. “He’s fine for now- it’s the first day. I’ll check in once it’s in full swing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel nodded stiffly, and Geralt held up his wrist across the table, giving Eskel an expectant look. The alpha leaned forward and rubbed his face and nose on Geralt’s skin. He immediately relaxed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Could you also…” Eskel paused, seemed to fight his need to ask for more, but gave in. “Could you let me stay in yours for a few nights, until he’s back?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt nodded. That wasn’t unusual. Eskel often slept in Geralt’s bed during the weeks of heat, letting the smell of the cool-headed beta soothe him. Alphas were emotionally raw during the heat season, their ruts sometimes kicked off and frustrating them. It wasn’t always about sex; alphas had a strong urge to emotionally connect, and being left alone threw them into a depression. Eskel relied on Geralt to quell him, and the beta didn’t mind. It was nice to be useful, and he liked knowing he could protect Eskel with his presence. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt let himself smile at his friend, let his pleasure be seen. Eskel needed the reassurance and Geralt wanted to help him. He loved Eskel, and Eskel deserved to know that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You need me, I’m here.” And then, just because he felt like some small amount of teasing was deserved, “I’ll even go cuddle your boyfriend for you if it will make you feel better.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel scowled at him. “He’s not my boyfriend.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh huh,” Geralt grunted, finishing up his lunch.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Two days later, Geralt made his way out to the watchtower, lugging a jug of mulled cider. The snow was deep enough to be burdensome, but Vesemir had made a few sets of snowshoes years prior, and they did their best to keep Geralt from sinking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He heard Lambert shuffling around restlessly inside the tower, and sincerely hoped he wasn’t about to walk in on him trying to relieve himself. Geralt knew omegas in solo heat needed some form of sexual relief, and he wasn’t a prude, he just didn’t like interrupting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>However, the noises beyond the door were of frustration, not pleasure, so Geralt let his presence be known with a soft knock.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A growl responded immediately, and the door was thrown open. Geralt saw Lambert was only half-dressed, wearing a long tunic that stopped mid-thigh, and shoved inside so that he could close the door behind him. Eskel would cuff him for letting Lambert freeze his bits off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt expected what happened next, and even allowed it. Lambert pounced on him, snarling noisily, shoving him into the door as it clapped shut. Teeth bit at his jaw, and sharp fingers ripped at his scarf, trying to reach his neck. He wasn’t afraid that Lambert would rip his throat out- once the omega caught scent of him, things would change.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert delivered one stinging bite to his skin, then stopped to sniff. He drew several deep breaths and shuddered, leaning heavily into Geralt’s frame. The beta held him up and hummed quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello Lambert.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The omega ran his nose up to Geralt’s cheek, then nipped it again, this time playful, and withdrew.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi,” he said, giving a toothy smile. His eyes were bruised and lidded and he swayed on his feet. To Geralt, omegas in heat looked drunk; their coordination was poor and they were prone to mood swings. They also had very little sense of self-preservation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You need something to drink,” Geralt said, raising the jug he’d brought. Lambert made an inquisitive noise and sniffed, as if he could figure it out. Geralt could barely smell anything over the cloying sweet smell of heat mixed with the musk of sex. The omega had obviously been taking care of himself. Geralt did his best to not notice the wood phallus set near the fireplace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert grinned at him dopily and sat down on a fur he’d thrown over the cold stone floor. “Aw, come to take care of me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt opened the jug and took out the cup he’d brought with, settling down on the fur as well. He reheated the cider with a quick Igni and handed it over. Lambert dipped into the drink and nearly purred in pleasure. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt and Lambert had never had a good relationship- at the most they were civil, sometimes voicing their begrudging respect of one another. Mostly, Lambert was a prick and Geralt was snide.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something had changed between them, though; Geralt was coming to like Lambert. He had been surprised when he saw how dedicated and serious Lambert took Eskel’s care after his injury. The younger wolf had done an exceptional job on Eskel’s surgery, and was persistent with his recovery. He wasn’t biting or mean or cruel when it was difficult, but quiet and determined. Geralt expected callous commentary- was prepared for Lambert to tell Eskel to get over it, but it never happened. Lambert actually cared for Eskel, and wanted what was best for him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was enough to soften Geralt up to the prickly omega, immediately.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How are you?” He asked, taking a quick sip from the jug himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert groaned and shrugged. “Achey. Horny. Hot. Want to yell ‘someone come fuck me’ out into the wilderness like a horny cat.” He laughed. His hair was ruffled, no longer held back with the wax and pomade, and surprisingly long. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How’s the anger?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The omega winced, showing Geralt the back of his hands. His knuckles were bruised and bloody, most likely from punching the walls. “Could be a lot worse,” he admitted. “Been taking that new potion. I think it keeps me a little more calm. Got a lot of quelling oil, just forget to rub it on.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t surprising to see some injury on him. Geralt had taken care of a few omegas back when the keep was full, even being the assisting stud during heats. He had seen omegas claw their own body bloody in need when they were left alone too long. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can come by again and remind you tomorrow,” Geralt offered. He wasn’t really planning on it, but he also didn’t like the idea of leaving Lambert alone, now. After he saw how the omega cared for Eskel, he changed his mind on how Lambert worked. If it were Geralt locked in this tower, Lambert probably would help him just because he was his brother and Eskel’s friend.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert’s smile was distractingly gentle. Geralt refilled his cup with cider. “I’d like that. Being alone doesn't bother me normally, but heat makes it difficult,” he admitted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuck, that was the softest shit he’d ever heard from Lambert’s mouth. He was obviously sodden with hormones. Geralt tried not to let his shock show, and reached for the other object that he brought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eskel wanted me to give you this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a wool shirt, oversized and ancient. Geralt had no idea why he needed to give it to Lambert, and only knew Eskel insisted and had rubbed Quelling oil all over it that morning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert snatched it out of his hands in a second, burying his face in the fabric and huffing it. A low growl resonated in the omega’s chest. He smelled Eskel on it. Geralt worried he may need to interrupt to calm him, but then realized the sound wasn’t aggressive, but hungry. The omega was very much enjoying the scent of his alpha companion, rubbing his face on the wool and sighing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And these two idiots weren’t together? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You two need to figure it out already,” Geralt grumbled, drinking again. It probably wasn’t the best subject to bring up during an omega’s heat, but whatever. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert tugged the shirt on, nearly getting caught in the process. The quelling oils seemed to offset the smell of alpha and his excitement didn’t escalate into any predatory behavior. Omegas smelling an interested alpha were like a wolf smelling a wounded deer. Things got ugly, fast.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He doesn’t want to,” Lambert bemoaned, flopping down on the fur face first. What a drama queen. His tunic barely covered his ass, and Geralt did his best not to notice the sheen of slick on his thighs. It was rude to stare.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, he absolutely does,” Geralt said, annoyed. “He was fretting like a hen all day.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s cute. He’s so cute,” Lambert murmured, muffled by the fur. He squirmed against it. Geralt tried not to laugh. Outside of heat, Lambert would die of embarrassment acting like that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, well after this do something about it. He’s being stupid.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert grumbled something that may have been agreement, and pulled another fur over him, wrapping himself in warmth. Geralt put up the jug and looked for the Quelling oil. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you put any on yet today?” Geralt asked, holding the bottle up for Lambert to see. The omega frowned and struggled in his cocoon to get his arms loose. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah. Give it over.” He looked ridiculous, barely able to sit up, hair wild.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt uncorked the bottle and dribbled some on his fingers. “I’ll do it.” He’d applied it a few times to other omegas he’d assisted. It typically helped to put it on the arms, shoulders and neck. Lambert was wrapped in layers, so he’d put it where he could. The omega immediately went limp as Geralt swiped a hand over the back of his neck, squeezing there. Scruffing an alpha or an omega was a gamble. Sometimes they went limp. Sometimes they bit you.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert grumbled his thanks as Geralt worked it in his skin on his neck and throat, then under the layers on his shoulders to squeeze the tight muscles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stuff’s good.” Lambert said, eyes lidded and lazy. “But real is always better.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt snorted. He could just ask- but Lambert was Lambert and he did love to be difficult. “Didn’t take you for a cuddler, was all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oil used up, Lambert flopped down again, sighing as he soaked in the scent. “Get a little weird during this.” He sounded drunk, slurring slightly. “Don’t make fun of me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt schooled his expression, because this was important. Lambert had no control over his wants and needs. Just like Eskel, he was defenseless to his hormones’ whim. “I’m not,” he said, and laid down alongside the omega, pulling him into a loose embrace. Lambert didn’t need further invitation, and buried his face in the exposed skin of Geralt’s neck, breathing deeply.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a moment, Geralt chuckled, and Lambert made a curious noise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just thought about how jealous Eskel is going to be.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert’s answering laugh rumbled against Geralt’s skin.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Within minutes of entering the keep, Eskel was all over him, sniffing his hands and clothing, and taking a very long time enjoying the smell where Lambert had laid. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt shoved him playfully when he noticed how blown the alpha’s eyes were. “Don’t get stiff off huffing me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel complained, but dislodged himself. “How is he?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The beta shrugged. “Feral until he gets a nose-full, then acting like a drunk when he’s been quelled.” Eskel frowned, not satisfied with the answer. Geralt was irritable: he was not a good emissary. “He’s horny and lonesome? Jerking off a lot. Made him drink, quelled him a bit. He’s fine, Eskel.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The alpha shifted foot to foot. “Did he like the shirt?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt wanted to roll his eyes, but some part of him thought seeing Eskel in this state was strangely charming. “He loved it. Pulled it on right away.” Geralt patted his friend on the shoulder. “You can tell him you love him when he gets back next week.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel sputtered, but didn’t deny it, instead shoving Geralt like they were boys again. Never one to turn down roughhousing, Geralt bumped him back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll check on him again tomorrow. You can think of something else to send him.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel took to the task immediately. The next morning Geralt set out with a pair of nice woolen socks and a small bottle of expensive alcohol; Eskel’s courting gifts. Geralt made fun of him, but took care to deliver them, anyways.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The year turned before Lambert came back, looking haggard and desperately hungry. Omegas rarely ate during their heats- their digestion having stopped and all their energy focused on the desire to reproduce. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His irritable mood was considerably softened when he discovered Eskel had taken his extra energy and gone hunting the day before, downing a boar. The alpha had it roasting before Lambert even stumbled in, and it was laid out on a table by the time he’d washed and changed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fucking hell that’s a big pig,” Lambert exclaimed, inspecting the boar. “Oi, I think this is the shithead that tried to gore me last spring. Going to eat you now, you bastard.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The whole pack tucked in, chatting over the feast casually, as if Lambert hadn’t just been locked away in a tower for well over a week. After they were all full and greasy, Lambert laid himself out in front of the fire and drank leisurely. From the corner of his eye he saw a silent exchange between Geralt and Eskel across the hall. Geralt was standing, arms crossed and jerking his head towards Lambert with an expectant look. Eskel was wincing and not moving. Lambert was tired of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eskel, stop being weird and come here!” He shouted, appreciating Geralt’s amused snort. It took a moment, but Eskel walked over, looking like he’d been caught doing something wrong.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sit down, you’re making me nervous.” Lambert budged over, and Eskel sat, straight-backed. The omega shoved the bottle of booze at him. “Relax a little. Cheers.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel drank and immediately coughed in alarm. “What the fuck is that?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Seeing the sudden break in Eskel’s tension made Lambert burst into laughter. He leaned into the bigger man, taking the drink back  and patting him in consolation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Knew that would make you loosen up, even if it did make you gag.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re a fucking menace,” Eskel growled with little anger behind it. He shoved at Lambert playfully and a smile spread on his face. For a moment, things were normal between them, no pall of sadness or poisoning of guilt, no strange, ominous threat of their biology. Eskel smiled and Lambert laughed and they enjoyed the warmth and comfort of the fire before them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He should have known it wouldn’t last long, not with so much unaddressed in their wake. Still, Lambert was so relieved to see a smile on Eskel’s face he couldn’t resist the draw of it. He let their thighs touch, then their shoulders, sliding up against the warm bulk of the bigger man. As toughly built as Lambert was, it was rare to find someone to make him feel small. He dwarfed most men in the width of his shoulders, and only a lumberjack or a blacksmith could challenge his build, but Eskel was a bear; wider and taller with legs like tree trunks. It made Lambert feel small, more normal and less like a freak. It was also, of course, fucking hot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the haze of food and alcohol and Eskel, Lambert forgot the burden above their heads, and leaned in closer and pressed a kiss to Eskel’s smiling mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment, everything was good. He sighed against the warm touch of lips, let his hand fall to land on the solid strength of Eskel’s chest to feel the resonating thump of his heart under his palm. It was good, and he wanted to melt into it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then it was gone, and Lambert was being pushed back somewhat roughly in Eskel’s escape.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Lambert squawked, lying awkwardly on the couch, nearly spilling his liquor all over himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel didn’t give him an answer, and bolted, making for the stairs that lead to their quarters. For a moment, Lambert laid there, wondering if he should just leave it, let the man have his weird crisis. But then he remembered how he’d done the same thing to Eskel; ran off on him when his feelings got too strong. He did it because he was stupid and a coward and left poor polite Eskel sitting there, confused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuck that. Lambert wasn’t polite.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was up and chasing him the next minute, abandoning his liquor and taking the stairs in leaps. He knew Eskel would lock his door, and because Lambert was good at picking that lock in less than ten seconds, he would probably bar the door as well. He really didn’t feel like breaking a door down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eskel, don’t you dare!” He shouted down the hall as he heard the lock click. He skidded to a stop and dug in his pocket for his knife. There was the sudden motion of a chair scraping. The bastard was going to try to brace the fucking door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will get the fucking axe in my room, you prick!” Lambert jammed the knife into the keyhole. It was easier with an actual pick, but the knife was thin and Lambert was a fucking surgeon with it. “Let me in or lose your door.” He got the lock unlatched and pushed on the door, and met with the resistance of Eskel holding it shut.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t,” Eskel said, barely a whisper. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert pushed harder and growled to the bare crack he managed to gain. “You don’t get to run on me, Eskel. You don’t get to just take it back without any explanation.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door moved slightly, budging under his assault. Eskel sighed and cursed, and let him in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert stomped inside and spun around, arms crossed. He was brimming with energy, the happy buzz ruined. Eskel closed the door again and sat heavily on the chair he’d brought over to brace against the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel didn’t say anything, and Lambert was full of questions. He didn’t know why he expected things to be different when he came back from his heat, but Geralt’s teasing encouragement and the small gifts had sparked a bit of hope things could pick up again between them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was so frustrating, and Lambert spilled over. “Am I wrong?” He asked, pacing the room. “You sent me gifts, Eskel. You let me sleep in your bed. I fucking swear you kissed me goodbye last year and I distinctly remembed you saying you wanted more.” Lambert ground to a stop in front of him, hands planted on his hips. “So what happened?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel looked up at him plainly, hiding his expression. “What happened?” He echoed, voice hollow. Eskel brought his hand up to touch his face, fingers tapping his scars. “You know what happened.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Like a bucket of water over a campfire, Lambert’s blaze sputtered out. He sighed and sat down heavily on Eskel’s bed. “Of course I know that, I just don’t understand why that changes anything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A muscle in Eskel’s jaw jumped and he looked away. “I don’t deserve—” he started, then cut himself off with a sigh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert flexed his hands against the bedding, struggling not to make fists. “Try that again, because it sounded like some bullshit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel sneered, the gesture pulling at his lip unkindly. “No. It’s right. I don’t deserve your affection; I am not a good man.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert wanted to laugh, loud and ugly and bitter, but he knew it wouldn’t do anything but make the situation worse. His own self-loathing clawed at him inside his chest, but this wasn’t about him. This is about why Eskel didn’t think he deserved someone as low and pathetic as Lambert.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t get to decide that,” he said, voice clipped. He needed to temper himself, not yell. “You’re a better man than most, certainly better than me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel shook his head. “I left Deidre to her vicious family, let her twist into something barely human. I got what I deserved for that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The fire roared up again, angry at fate and how hard it came down on Eskel, angry he hadn’t broached the subject sooner. Lambert got off the bed and down onto his knees in front of Eskel, forcing the other witcher to look at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You avoided the situation with Deirde because you thought you would just ruin her life,” he said, grabbing Eskel by the arms and shaking him. “You think you’re going to ruin things by being involved, but you don’t. It became fucked up because you weren’t there, because you didn’t trust that you’re a good man.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel stared at him, incredulous. If blushing came easily for him, Lambert would do it. As it was, his ears would pinken up if he kept getting looked at like that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Deidre lived, Eskel. She lived and she continued on with her life and your injury was an accident, not some fucking fated revenge.” He couldn’t stand Eskel’s self-loathing, his insistent flagellation. Lambert reached up and carefully touched his cheek, barely brushing the tight red skin of his scars.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel flinched like he’d been punched.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t,” he said, barely a whisper,</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert lifted his hand by only a centimeter. “Do they hurt?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not right now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ah, so it was a different sort of pain. “Eskel, I saw your cheekbone, your skull. This?” He drew his finger down the path of the scars, brushing the line he’d sewn. “This is resilience.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel’s eyes closed tight. “It’s hideous.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can’t be,” Lambert said. “It’s your face.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This time, he broadcast his movements, letting Eskel know he what he was going to do, giving him more of a chance to escape. He kissed him off center, right over the corner of his mouth Lambert struggled so hard to mend. Eskel made a small sound and kissed him back, then pulled away to speak.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell me this isn’t pity.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert blinked at him and raised an eyebrow. “Have you fucking seen my slashed up face, Eskel? What about the ugly mug under it? It’s certainly not pity. I already told you you were handsome, do you need me to nail a pamphlet to your door?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That got the desired smile on Eskel’s face. “Technically you said I ‘wasn’t hideous’, which is not the same thing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lamber sat back on his heels and rolled his eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry. Let me clarify.” He pointed at Eskel’s face, then gestured to the whole of him. “You’re handsome, very talented, lethally dangerous and a big softy. All of this makes you extremely attractive and I would like to continue kissing you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel’s smile had teeth, now. Lambert knew his ears were very pink. “I want that in writing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll spell it out with my tongue later, now stop sulking and come let me kiss you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel finally got off the chair and Lambert clamored up onto the bed, grinning like a fiend. When the bigger man was in grabbing distance, Lambert latched onto him and tugged him down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They flopped gracelessly onto the bed, bouncing and making Lambert snort a laugh. Eskel had only a second to look apprehensive before the omega was on him, kissing him much more filthily than he’d dared before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel grunted in surprise, but recovered well, kissing back and allowing Lambert to nibble at his lip, open his mouth with an insistent brush of tongue. Lambert was half-over him, one leg slung over Eskel’s hips to keep him in place, his hands insistently cupping the strong jaw to tilt the alpha’s head as he liked. Learning to kiss again with his recovered injuries was a trick, and Eskel fought the strange pangs of embarrassment and disappointment when he couldn’t move his mouth right to respond.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As if reading his mind, Lambert pulled back and whispered against his lips. “Just needs a little training. You can practice on me all you like, I insist.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel hummed happily and grabbed at the man above him, bringing them back together. The kisses were slow and deep, Lambert letting Eskel exercise the changed musculature and flex the new scars, petting the alpha’s neck and chest reverently and groaning sweet encouragements. It didn’t feel at all like pity. It felt like adoration.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel shuddered under the attention and let his hands wander as well. Lambert hummed happily as he swept his touch up and down the omega’s ribcage, grunted in encouragement as Eskel gripped onto the muscular thigh across his hip. It was good, lazy and pleasurable and what he needed, what they both needed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The alpha wanted to cover Lambert’s body, hold him close, kiss him breathless and make him groan. He wanted all of that, and he was being offered it, had been offered it. He was going to take it. Eskel pushed back against the man on top of him, turning them over so he could pin him down. He wanted to shower him with his affection, his thanks- limitations be damned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unfortunately, the pressure of rolling over did something else. Lambert had just eaten a huge meal and downed a half a bottle of booze. His stomach did not appreciate Eskel’s jostling, and it unleashed a rather sonorous burp.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Right in Eskel’s face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck, sorry!” He said, voice strained with embarrassment. He waved his hand about to dispel the gas. Eskel was staring at him, eyes wide. Lambert, briefly, considered dying of shame.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The awkward tension was broken as Eskel burst into laughter. Loud, resonant laughter. Lambert hadn’t heard that noise out of him in nearly a year.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re so charming,” Eskel said, wiping at his eyes. “Just sweeping me off my feet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” Lambert squawked, wriggling out from where he’d been  pinned. “You’re the one rolling me around!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bed was shaking with Eskel’s mirth. “Should I expect it out the other end? Do we need to open a window?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert sputtered and slapped at him. “That’s fucking rich!” He said. “You forget I have been sleeping here. I have woken up to some loud rumbling below that was NOT from me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel was roaring with laughter, the sound echoing in the room, booming from his chest. It made Lambert want to tackle him and kiss him and crack up as well, so he did all three. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were both so full of food that their bodies were falling into lethargy, convincing them to sleep. They snuggled in with each other, Eskel enfolding Lambert in his arms as they settled down for the night. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a first time in a long time, Eskel felt happy.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert woke up and realized two things instantly: that his breath was horrendous, and that his prick was very hard against his hip. There were solutions for both problems, but one was sure to counteract the other; he was not likely to get laid with breath smelling like a dead drowner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was lucky enough to be on the outside of the mattress, so escape was possible. He wriggled out and snuck from the room, heading to his own quarters. Lambert scrubbed at his teeth and rinsed, even dabbed his tongue with spearmint oil. While he was at it, he just washed all over, skin buzzing with the idea he would march himself back in and wake Eskel with his intentions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unfortunately, Eskel was already awake and getting out of bed when Lambert returned, and one look at him had Lambert frowning. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you think I’d ran out on you?” He meant it to be teasing, but Eskel’s wince had him crowding the man, grabbing Eskel’s hips. “I just needed to freshen up, my breath smelled like a forktail’s taint. I didn’t want to wake you up like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A smile teased Eskel’s lips, chasing away the depressed look he’d had when Lambert opened the door. “How were you planning on waking me up?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The omega used his grip on Eskel to push him back onto the bed, crawling up after him. “Well I freshened my breath up, but I don’t mind it smelling like cock.” He winked, happily settling astride Eskel’s hips. The alpha laid back and chuckled, hands petting Lambert’s thighs. His gaze was happy and relaxed with just a hint of heat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you’re feeling less gassy, I’d wouldn’t say no to a kiss,” he said, giving the muscle under his fingers a firm squeeze. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re so tame,” Lambert bemoaned, dipping down to give him a quick peck. He tried to withdraw to complain more, but Eskel caught him by the back of the neck, pulling him down to bite and lick at Lambert’s mouth. The omega moaned happily, his own hands digging into the glorious curves that were Eskel’s chest. He fucking loved Eskel’s pecs; they were huge and  perfect. Lambert groaned with the realization he would be allowed to touch them as much as he liked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pulled back with a gasp, Eskel biting his lip as he retreated. “If insulting you leads to you fucking me, I am about to get really mean.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel laughed, getting one hand free to reach down and slap Lambert’s ass. “Or you could just ask.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it off and enjoying the way Eskel’s pupils blew out as he did. He leaned back, showing the obvious bulge of his hard cock. Eskel swallowed, and Lambert nearly preened as he felt Eskel’s prick firm up under his ass.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So hey,” Lambert drawled, playing with the laces of his trousers, “wanna fuck me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel groaned under him, his hips twitching involuntarily. “Only for a few years,” he admitted, unable to take his eyes off of the opening placket of the other’s slacks. Lambert made a show of pulling out his prick, grinning lasciviously. He was decently endowed, and he’d been told his cock was pretty, with a lovely flushed head and thick shaft. Eskel licked his lips at the sight,</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Am I the only one showing off here,” Lambert said, giving his cock a long stroke. “Or do I get to see you, too?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel’s breathing picked up under him, and his hands were flexing desperately. “I’ll need you off my lap to get naked,” he said, “but I really don’t want you off of me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert grinned and moved off the bed, immediately working on shucking off his pants. “Well be quick about it so I can get back up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel pulled off his shirt first, tossing it across the room, but got distracted by the sight of Lambert completely bare.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he said, staring. Lambert’s legs looked even better out out of his ridiculously good looking leathers, and now that Eskel could follow the delicious flow of hair down his  chest and abdomen to his fantastic prick, he was dumbstruck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert snapped him out of it by grabbing one of his trouser legs and pulling. “Get this shit off,” he muttered. Eskel laughed and undid the tie. He wasn’t wearing any braies, so when they came off, everything was on display.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gods, Eskel what the fuck?” Lambert all but shouted, staring at his crotch. Eskel tightened his lips and tried not to laugh as Lambert gawked at him. “I don’t even think I can get you in my mouth!” He paused for a second, looking one part worried and another incredibly aroused. “How am I going to get that in my ass?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel was about to say they didn’t have to do that at all— he knew he was a bit too large for most people, and that he would happily do anything Lambert liked as long as he got back on his lap— when he actually did burst out in laughter, because Lambert- Lambert was stretching.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you doing?” He said, sitting up fully. Lambert was shifting his hips, stretching out the muscles of his inner thighs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You think I can ride on that without prep?” He kicked a leg up on the bed and folded himself nearly in half over it to relax his hamstrings.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I imagined stretching something else.” Eskel was losing his battle at not admiring Lambert’s flexibility. It was comical, but also making Eskel consider several positions he could twist him in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert winked at him and bent down to rifle through his pants. Eskel whimpered at the beautiful view of his ass. Fuck, Lambert could do whatever stupid exercises he wanted as long as he kept letting Eskel look at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stood up, triumphant with a bottle of lubricant in his hand. “My favorite mix,” he said, grinning. “Didn’t use it all up during my heat.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel groaned just thinking of that; Lambert all slicked up and desperate. Fuck, he had just been in that watchtower the day before last, riding out the last of his hormone surge. He grabbed his cock, shuddering as precum dribbled from the slit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert stared openly, and before Eskel could react, he had his mouth over the tip, lapping him up like a fine vintage. Eskel was thankful he had his hand on his cock,  so he could squeeze mercilessly to keep himself from simply coming right in his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck, Lambert!” He bucked and pulled away. “Don’t just do that unless you want me going off.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert brought his head up and grinned, sliding back onto the bed. “My, you know I like the idea of you going off all over me. Want to get one out before you try to get that monster into me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel grit his teeth and closed his eyes. It was a fair enough point- he was ridiculously on edge. He had been thinking of Lambert’s heat all week, smelling the ghost of it on Geralt. Having the omega up against him and teasing about sitting on his cock had him throbbing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, he wanted the first time to be, well, not ruined by him going off like a teenager. Eskel bit the inside of his cheek and hauled Lambert up over him, pulling him down for a kiss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Going to have to be patient, then,” Lambert said, licking at his mouth. “Need time to get ready for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel smiled up at him as Lambert sat back. “As long as you need, beautiful.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The omega blustered and opened the bottle of oil, pouring some on his fingers. “Unreasonably cute,” he muttered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel held himself perfectly still as Lambert brought his hand behind himself, listening to the slick noises and soft panting breaths as he fingered himself open. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re lucky I just came off of my heat, this will be a little easier.” Lambert bit his lip and shifted. Eskel was desperate to see what he was doing, but didn’t dare move. The view from the front was gorgeous already.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Belatedly, he realized he could touch. Eskel ran his hands up Lambert’s thighs, loving the power in them, and pressed his thumbs into the pronounced hollow of his hips, right under the glorious band of muscle that cut a pronounce V down to his cock. With Lambert’s arm reached behind him, his chest was on display. Fuck, he loved the thick hair and broad shoulders. He ran his hands up the omega’s taut abdomen, then dragged his fingernails down, delighting in the hum of pleasure it elicited. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Always thought your body was just perfect,” he said. Eskel wasn’t a poet, but Lambert preened under the praise, so it must have worked. He finally let his hand drop to loosely stroke the handsome cock alongside his own. The omega sighed and Eskel felt the back of Lambert’s hand brush his thigh as he worked his fingers into himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The alpha wanted so badly to reach back and feel him stretching open, so he did. Eskel pushed one hand between Lambert’s legs, sliding his fingers along his perineum and back to his hole. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck yeah, please,” Lambert gasped, spreading his own fingers wide to let Eskel slide one alongside. Eskel groaned, realizing Lambert had three fingers inside of himself, and Eskel added the fourth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The omega was panting at the stretch, his eyes lidded and sex-drunk. For the first time, Eskel felt the urge to flip them over and touch his knees to his chest as he pushed into him. Instead, he pushed his finger deeper. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert’s thighs shook and he pulled his fingers out. “Okay, want to try,” he said, reaching down to unabashedly grab Eskel’s cock and slather him with more lubricant. Eskel supported him as he shifted upward, setting one foot on the bed so he could lift himself enough to fit Eskel against him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He held his cock and Lambert steady as the omega let gravity push them together. For a moment, nothing gave, but then Lambert pushed down and whimpered and the head of Eskel’s cock was enclosed in the hot vice of Lambert’s body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Lambert keened, his eyes screwed shut. He looked like he was in pain. Eskel immediately moved to lift him off of his lap, but Lambert growled in response and sank down further. Eskel clamped onto his hips, keeping him from moving.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure?” He asked, worry choking him. He didn’t smell any blood or the markers of pain in Lambert’s scent, but he was not alright with forcing his way into the omega’s body.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eskel,” Lambert bit back, face determined. “I spent my whole heat fucking myself on a fake cock thinking of yours. Give me a fucking minute to relax on this monster.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He did what he was told, laying still, trying desperately not to rock up into the slick heat. Lambert moved gradually, sinking down with every other breath, looking like he was trying to meditate while sitting on a cock.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a surreal moment- not because Eskel wasn’t used to going slow, he was. You didn’t have a cock as thick as a wrist and not learn to be patient when it came to your partners. Eskel was exceptional at going slow and being gentle. It was just that, well- this was Lambert. This wasn’t some whore he’d paid a premium, or some novelty tryst who wanted to try their hand at riding a witcher- this was his friend, his brother in arms, and now his partner. His love. His omega. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel squeezed his eyes tight and bit his lip, ignoring the twinge of the new scar tissue, and did his own attempt at meditation. Lambert was a painfully tight around him, and burning hot. The added oil was helpful, but the going was still slow. For a moment, there was no real noise in the room but both of their labored breathing, broken finally when Lambert found himself fully seated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy fucking hell,” he said, high and tight. Eskel looked down at him and groaned. Gods, he was pretty like that. Lambert’s hair was a mess, his skin shining in sweat. Both of his hands were planted on Eskel’s chest, digging into the fat and muscle and stamping  small fingerprint bruises. Lambert was panting obscenely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You okay? Eskel asked, rubbing soothing circles into his hips. He was sweating as well, straining with effort not to move.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert nodded, but looked dazed. “It’s just a lot,” he admitted, voice strained. Eskel felt battling emotions of worry and pride swell through him. He focused on the worry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert rolled his eyes. The death grip he had on Eskel’s chest let up slightly. “Don’t apologize for having a fucking massive cock, idiot. It’s hot, it’s just that it's literally twice the size of any of my dildos, and certainly bigger than other cocks I’ve had.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel groaned at that, his hips twitching. Lambert didn’t seem to mind the small movement.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, you like knowing that?” He teased, shifting carefully where he was seated. “Like knowing that this is the biggest cock I’ve ever had?” Eskel twitched again and Lambert rocked slowly on his lap, working with short thrusts so he could adjust to the girth. “Pervert.” Lambert was leering down at him, obviously enjoying himself. “Bet you’re going to get half hard when you see me limping later, knowing what you did.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel gasped and struggled with himself, dying to hold Lambert up and thrust into him. He did like it, fuck he loved the idea. The alpha had never been one to swing his size around- if anything, he treated his endowment more like another mutation. It was inconvenient a lot of the time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck, it feels good, though.” Lambert muttered, lifting himself a little to drop back down. He made a noise like he’d been hit. “Wish I was still making all that slick, I’d be a fucking mess.” He leaned back, putting his hands on Eskel’s knees. The change in angle had him gasping. “That’s it, that’s so good, fuck!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel couldn’t handle laying idle anymore and moved hand down to grab Lambert’s cock, giving him a few firm strokes. The omega quivered and moved faster, lifting himself further on Eskel’s cock.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gods,” Lambert panted, eyes unfocused, “wonder what your knot would be like- you’d fucking wreck me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was the last of his patience, completely ruined. Eskel growled and grabbed Lambert to his chest, rolling them over. The omega hit the mattress with a surprised huff, and Eskel got his knees under him enough to control their movements. He’d come close to slipping out, so Eskel grabbed Lambert about the waist and hauled him back onto his cock.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eskel!”Lambert shouted, scrambling at his chest, leaving long scratches with his nails. The alpha sniffed deeply, but didn’t pick up any notes of distress or pain. He moved a little more firmly, drawing himself out further with every thrust.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert finally stopped running his mouth, mostly because he couldn’t form sentences. The noises he made were a mixture of moans and yelps, but they were all blissful. The omega’s legs flexed from where they were bracketing Eskel’s ribs, pushing and pulling with the thrusts, encouraging him to speed up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel was nearly drooling at the sight under him, one of his favorite people, reduced to a pleasurable mess, because of him. He wasn’t going to last, not looking at a masterpiece like this, not with the delicious friction on his cock and the filthy noises between them. There was no way he could keep himself from going off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Determined to at least bring Lambert close, Eskel draped the omega’s legs over his shoulders and sat upright, making his cockhead drag over Lambert’s prostate. The effect was volatile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert’s hand flew to his own cock, stroking himself in quick, needy pulls. Every one of his breaths was an exclamation, and the muscles of the stomach clenched beautifully. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kelly,” he whimpered, “gunna come.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel felt a swell of warmth through his chest, even as his own body coiled in anticipation. “Please, Lam. Do it. Let me see.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Remus was right; Lambert was a fucking sight. He arched up and his thighs tensed and his whole body jerked as he came, spilling onto his abdomen and painting a stripe of cum across his dark chest hair. His breath heaved like he’d run up a mountainside, and his ass clenched down so beautifully Eskel was hopeless to stop his own roaring orgasm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He managed to pull out in time to let his cum spurt against Lambert’s used hole, mixing with the oil and precum and leaving him soaking wet, filthy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel looked down at the mess in awe. He felt lightheaded and shaky, but so good. Fuck, he hadn’t come like that in years. Lambert was apparently of the same mind, because he was laying boneless under him, cursing and jerking with the aftershocks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel teetered where he was kneeled, but gave up and crashed to the side, laying down next to Lambert. “You alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he said, leg twitching. “Just realizing I could have been riding your dick since last winter and wanting to go back and beat myself up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel snorted and snuggled in close. They were both sticky, and Lambert had cum against his ass and on his front. “Things happened. We’ll get better at it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert looked over at him. His smile was soft, almost dopey in his afterglow. Eskel wanted to kiss him, so he did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The action shifted the omega slightly and he groaned, reaching down between his legs to feel the mess there. “Fuck. Come inside me next time,” he said against Eskel’s mouth. “Like it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The alpha inhaled sharply. His cock twitched. “Fuck, Lam you can’t just say that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert didn’t like being told what to do. He was a brat and an asshole, and he didn’t take directions well. He stared at Eskel, face gravely serious. “Eskel, I want you to fucking split me open on your cock and fill me with cum until I am dripping with it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel bit him on the shoulder. There was no way he was going to fuck Lambert again so soon- his cock may be able, but he didn’t want to hurt his omega. “You’re the pervert, here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He grinned and winked. “I mean on me isn’t bad.” Lambert looked thoughtful. “Or in my mouth, or in my hand as I fuck you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel rolled onto his back, a smile pulling at his scars. “Hmm, we should try all of those.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert clapped his hands once, a silly gesture he did when preparing to perform some feat or start a new formula. “Right,” he agreed cheerily, “you and I have winter project.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up and nap,” Eskel teased, feeling the lovely, deep drowsiness that chased a good orgasm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert wasn’t having it and sat up, smiling mischievously. “It’s mid-morning!” He said. “Did you not know omegas get energetic after orgasm?” Eskel didn’t know if he was teasing or not. From the way Lambert looked like he was about ready to buzz out of his skin, it was not a joke. “I want to climb a fuckingwall.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He made to get out of bed, but Eskel snared him, wrestling him back down and rolling over Lambert to keep him in place. “No,” he grumbled, snuggling against the writing body under him. “Stay with me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Unreasonably cute,” Lambert complained. He made an exasperated noise and twitched, but he didn't try to get up again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They slept through breakfast, but cleaned up enough to make it to lunch. Vesemir ignored them, but Geralt took one look, rolled his eyes and announced loudly: “fucking finally!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel punched him, but the tussle was short lived and Eskel wrestled Geralt into a hug, the white wolf grumbling the entire time. From where he peeked over Eskel’s shoulder, Geralt sent Lambert the most subtle of smiles.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The tension from the beginning of the winter only dissipated as the days lengthened. Eskel began to play card games and tell stories, drank with Geralt and cooked with Vesemir. Lambert slept in Eskel’s bed, continued to help care for his scars and, naturally, worked on their ‘winter project’, which offended Geralt’s nose to no end.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel was doing better as the snow began its melt. He allowed small smiles, even though they pulled at his scars, and he had less low days. He still avoided his own reflection, but it was progress.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert was surprised to find that his relationship with Geralt evolved alongside the one with Eskel. The normally standoffish witcher was quicker to respond with a joke, and Lambert began to appreciate the dry commentary Geralt had to offer. They sat together more often, got drunk and traded increasingly sharp and hilarious insults, often ending in raucous laughter. He and Geralt often had vicious games of Gwent, betting cards and coin, entertaining themselves in the dead of winter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel watched them interact with a glow of pleasure, basking in the knowledge his two favorite people were growing closer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When the pass cleared, Lambert left first, keen to let Eskel spend uninterrupted time with Geralt before they split. He knew the coming year would be difficult: it took awhile for Lambert to get used to civilians looking at his mauled face, and Eskel undoubtedly had it worse. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This season, it’s going to be a bitch for him,” he said to Geralt, having pulled him aside the morning he was leaving. “Keep him here for a week longer, give him some time to relax with you.”   Lambert sighed, felt his lips turn to a scowl. He looked off across the hall where Eskel was talking to Vesemir, his face open and kind and slashed through. “People are cruel.” He knew he didn’t need to explain further.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt hummed in agreement, and then pulled Lambert in for a hug. The beta’s scent was so soothing that he didn’t even give into the impulse to pull away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I never thanked you,” Geralt said, temple-to-temple, “for taking care of him. Being there.” He pulled back and pressed their foreheads together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert blinked frantically, taken aback. “It was lucky.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, it was talent.” Geralt leaned back and smiled at him. A real one. He had small wrinkles near his eyes that crinkled when he smiled. “You knew what to do and you were there when he needed it. Thank you.” A warm palm clapped onto Lambert’s shoulder, reverberating throughout his frame. “Take care on the path, Lambert.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he left later that morning, having said his goodbyes, Lambert realized that for the first time in many years, he wasn’t eager to leave the crumbling fortress behind.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Aw, everything will be just fine now, won’t it?</p>
<p>Hahahahaha oh god forgive me for what I am going to do to y’all.</p>
<p>Next part is huge, and may need to be broken into 2 to avoid being a 20k chapter.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Grabbing a Knife by the Blade</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A winter alone is a blessing and a curse.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>CW: *spoilers* at the end of the chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">Part Four : Grabbing A Knife by the Blade</span>
  </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lambert collected Geralt’s letter to Vesemir in Ard Carraigh as he picked up supplies for winter. He didn’t have a problem opening the missive himself- it wasn’t as if the news would change on the way up the mountain. Plus, he could always send a letter in return. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t anything good, unfortunately. Geralt had broken his leg and lost his horse in Southern Temeria late in the season, grounding him where he was. He insisted he was in good health otherwise, apologized for being apart, and told Eskel and Lambert to behave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert took a moment to scribble a quick reply, then paid the courier to hold Geralt’s letter so Eskel could read it when he came up. The courier could send their replies to Geralt together, and Eskel would bring the letter up when he came through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was unfortunate Geralt would not make it again. The white wolf had a habit of traveling further from Kaedwen than his brothers, and he often went so far he would fail to make it back for winter. A broken leg and a dead horse didn’t help the matter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert had enjoyed the easier camaraderie between them. Geralt was much more open to him, now- more likely to joke around or speak to him kindly. Plus, Lambert was looking forward to using some of the rarer Gwent cards he’d picked up that Season. His deck was getting vicious, and he really would have liked to see Geralt’s reaction when he got mopped in the last round. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, a winter alone with Eskel wasn’t anything to look down his nose at. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert finished his tasks and turned northeast, eyes on the white peaks in the distance. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel arrived two weeks later, just as the last leaves fell and the frost rimed the dying grasses. He had his mare, his ridiculous nanny goat and a new one-eyed gelding that looked ornery as a shaved cat. Lambert confirmed this by getting bitten immediately as he tried to undo its saddlebags.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bastard there is a biter, watch it.” Eskel was taking the tack off of his much nicer mare. His goat, Bertha, was already running free in the courtyard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert dodged another nip, swatting the horse on the nose. It retaliated by trying to stomp on his foot. “You named it Bastard?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guy who gave him to me named it Bastard. He was about to kill him and have some horse meat for dinner, but I offered a crown and he took it.” Of course Eskel bought a half-blind horse out of pity. He was fond of animals. Lambert never understood the goat thing, but he knew that Eskel was devastated every time he failed to protect them when he used them as bait. He’d gotten exceptionally good at interception and quick kills because of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Getting the gear off the irritable horse’s his blind side was easier, but Lambert still had to watch for a kick. “Fuck, I may be wanting horsemeat for dinner if this shit doesn’t stop trying to fight me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, but he reminds me of you,” Eskel teased, finally pulling Lambert in for a hug and kissing his nose, just to be an ass. “I couldn’t resist his angry look and irritable personality.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you think this is a good tactic for getting laid tonight, you are incorrect,” Lambert growled, wriggling away. He grabbed a bucket of oats from the back of the stall and set it down in front of the grouchy horse’s face. “Eat up, Bastard. Want you fat so I can cook you up later.” The gelding snorted, as if he knew the threat was empty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Horses tended to, Lambert picked up the ladened saddlebags. “Did you get the letter?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Eskel grabbed the rest of his gear, shoulders and arms bulging as he carried the weight. Lambert swallowed and looked away. So much for being pissy and holding out. Just looking at the show of strength had him salivating. Maybe he could get Eskel to hold him up against the wall and fuck him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s sad about his mare,” Eskel said, oblivious. “She was a smart Roach. He’ll be combing Temeria all winter looking for a new one.” Lambert didn’t have the same attachment to his horses as his brothers did. First of all, he rarely had one. They were expensive to stable and he’d been thrown too often. When he did have one, they tended not to get along. Still, Eskel’s affection for his animals was endearing. He kept his goats for years, and mourned their passing when they died. One time he had to put a billy down after it broke its leg and Lambert asked the foolish question if he’d eaten him for dinner afterwards. Eskel didn’t talk to him for a week, and only forgave him when Lambert left a little goat figurine he’d whittled on Eskel’s desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vesemir greeted Eskel warmly- much more so than he ever did Lambert, and took the letter. They distributed the supplies and Eskel went to unpack and bathe before dinner. Lambert changed and suffered the stiff silence of Vesemir easily. It was hard to be angry when he was excited to have Eskel near him again. Even the old man’s poor mood was tolerable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plus, Lambert had a plan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kept his cool through dinner, relaxed as Eskel helped with the dishes and chatted with Vesemir. He gave him a good amount of time to feel at home and settled in before he cleared his throat and tilted his head suggestively towards the stairs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vesemir saw as well and rolled his eyes. “Take care of that, will you?” He said, nudging Eskel. “He’s been an irritable shit all week.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert flipped a rude gesture to Vesemir, and sauntered for the stairs. He didn’t take them two at a time- it would be hard in his current state- but it was a near thing. Eskel was chuckling in his wake, amused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thought you were mad at me comparing you to dear Bastard?” Eskel said, following. Eskel’s room was better for Lambert’s plan: he had a nice thick bear pelt on one wall, and Lambert was looking to get fucked against it. He wasn’t about to get railed up against a cold stone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel’s bag was on the bed, half-unpacked. The fire had been left burning low, so the room was pleasantly warm. Lambert didn’t bother with flirting and simply stripped out of his shirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t ruin this for yourself,” Lambert said, grinning at the hungry look that covered Eskel’s face. He leaned in and draped his arms over Eskel’s shoulders. His huge hands found their way to Lambert’s hips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Missed you,” Eskel muttered, leaning in for a kiss. It was chaste, sweet. Lambert was embarrassed by how much he loved it. “Touch me, please,” Eskel said. “Been a long time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert agreed, it had been too long. He ran his hands under Eskel’s shirt, loving the feel of his hot skin and coarse hair against his palms. Eskel was thinner than he liked, but Lambert could fatten him up all winter, get him soft like he loved, thick and strong. He licked into Eskel’s mouth as he groped everywhere he could reach, up his broad back, over his delicious chest, down and around to grasp firmly at Eskel’s beautiful ass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert pulled away with a gasp. Eskel smelled so good against him and he was drunk with his arms full of his alpha. “Fuck, I want you,” he admitted, shamelessly pressing his hard cock against him. “You want to?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel shuddered and nodded. “Yeah, been so long. Need it.” He looked dazed. “Fuck, haven’t been touched like this since spring.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert paused, blinking at him. “What?” They agreed, before they left, that visiting brothels was not forbidden. The Path was a difficult place and a Witcher’s appetite was voracious. Hiring help was not the same thing as taking a lover. Lambert felt a cold sinking in his stomach; had he misunderstood? He’d been to brothels, bought a mouth or a cunt to settle his skin. Was he mistaken?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel looked almost sad, which was all wrong. “No one was willing, even with a premium,” he said, voice tired. “I scared the whores. No one wanted to bother.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The worry flared away into anger and Lambert cradled Eskel’s face, forcing eye contact. “Humans are cowards,” he said. “You’re magnificent.” He traced the line of the scar down Eskel’s cheek. It had healed well, lightened in color, but it was still large and harsh for the unfamiliar. Lambert saw it for what it was: tenacity and survival. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kissed the notch in Eskel’s lip, once tenderly and then again with heat. “So you’re telling me no one but yours truly had their hands on you this year?” He asked, trying to flip the script. Eskel shrugged and Lambert leaned in to nip his jaw. “Good,” he growled. “I like having my alpha all to myself. Keep off my man.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel backed Lambert up to the wall, just as the omega planned, and pinned him against the pelt. Lambert purred, working at the buttons of Eskel’s shirt, pushing it off his shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t think you were territorial,” Eskel said between kisses. Lambert began to expertly work the ties of his trousers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really, but it is nice, having something so perfect for myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel stepped out of his boots, dragging his slacks off with him. “Flatterer,” he grumbled, but a smile was ticking the corner of his lips. “What do you want from ‘your alpha’, then?” He was eyeing Lambert up, obviously enjoying the way he lounged back against the hung fur, shirtless and tousled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert made a show of unlacing his own trousers, shimming his hips as he worked them down. His cock sprung free from his pants, flushed and eager.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel whined at the sight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Want you to get over here and fuck me,” Lambert said, kicking the last of his clothes off. He felt a little silly, ass naked and leaning back against the pelt, trying to look appealing. It worked well enough, because Eskel nodded frantically in response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gotta get the lube.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert flashed the small tin he’d palmed out of his pocket before stripping. “Taken care of.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were always good with a plan,” Eskel said, dipping in for a kiss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert laughed and grabbed one of Eskel’s hands, leading it around to his ass. “You’re right about that,” he purred, and guided Eskel’s fingers to the base of the plug inside of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, Lam,” Eskel said, feeling around the plug. Lambert was still slick from then he’d put it in, and soft from the stretch. “Were you wearing this all day?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nipped at Eskel’s mouth and grinned. “No, just for dinner- and let me tell you, listening to Vesemir drone on while sitting on a plug is a strange experience.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel tightened his lips, trying to contain his laugh. Lambert licked at them and then turned around, letting his partner see the toy. It was one he’d carved for himself over the summer, sanded it down to an impeccably smooth taper and base. It was varnished and fairly sizable, perfect for prepping him for a thick alpha cock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel pressed his palm to the base, pushing the toy firmly inside, then pulled at it gently, fucking Lambert in small thrusts. The fur was glorious to bury his face in, and the young wolf moaned into it, arching his back to help.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re supposed to take it out, Kelly,” he panted, reaching back to slap lightly at him. Eskel growled and nipped his shoulder. Lambert loved knowing the affectation flustered Eskel. “Seriously though,” he said, trying to firm his voice, “if you don’t take that out and put your cock in me, I’m going to take a chunk out of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel licked at his neck and Lambert could feel him smile against his skin. “Such a dangerous omega. Right away, sir.” Lambert was a little surprised that his dick jumped at that. He didn’t exactly have time to examine it as Eskel had firmly grabbed the base of the plug and was pulling on it. “Alright, darlin. Breathe out.” There was a moment when it was too much, tight and hot and hurting, but then the plug was free with an obscene squelch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There, there, fuck,” Eskel panted, as if he were the one who’d just had his ass stretched. The plug fell to the floor with a loud thump as Eskel dropped it, his fingers returning to feel Lambert’s loosened hole. They both shuddered as his fingers slid in easily. “Oh, Lam,” he said, pressing in closer, “you’re fucking wonderful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The omega nearly preened under the praise, but squirmed when he felt the hot cock slide against the cleft of his ass. “Ah, wait.” Eskel stilled perfectly and Lambert turned back around and rewarded him with a kiss. He handed the tin of grease over. “Get yourself nice and slick, and then I want you to lift me up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel did as he was told, stroking his cock so that it was gleaming with the lubricant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert wrapped his arms around Eskel’s neck. “Catch,” he said, and jumped up to wrap his legs about his thick waist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, I see,” Eskel said, hiking him up easily and pinning Lambert to the wall. Held like he was, Lambert could feel the bulge and shift of Eskel’s muscles as he moved him around. It was glorious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like how strong you are,” he said, relaxing as Eskel reached under him with his free hand and held his prick steady. Lambert sighed as he felt the fat cockhead push into him. Eskel was only holding him up with one hand on the small of his back. “Fuck yes, you can hold me up like I’m nothing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel let gravity do the work, sliding Lambert down his cock by slowly setting him on it. The omega moaned gratefully. He’d fucked himself plenty with his toys over the summer, but there was nothing quite like the real thing. Deliciously hot and silky with just the right amount of give, and big enough to feel all the way into his stomach. Eskel was a fucking thing of beauty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apparently the feeling was mutual, because the alpha had to pause once Lambert was seated on his cock to breathe. “Been too long, hold on.” He closed his eyes and drew deep, calming breaths through his nose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just to be wicked, Lambert clenched down on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The reaction was a sharp, quick thrust that had him gasping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lam, don’t,” Eskel keened through clenched teeth, “unless you want me coming right now you need to be patient.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert was not a patient man. He was not a calm man. He wanted his bear of a lover to fuck him against the wall, holding up like he was nothing and make him wail. And Eskel would, </span>
  <em>
    <span>in a minute</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” he complained, keeping himself from moving. He could feel Eskel’s pulse through his cock, and it made him want to rock down onto it, but he didn’t. Instead, Lambert stared at the ceiling, ignored his own aching erection, and recited an alchemical formula under his breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hearing what he was doing, Eskel outright laughed and leaned in to kiss his neck affectionately, moving slightly inside of him. “You’re ridiculous,” he said, voice warm and sweet. “I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert stopped reciting the formula and stared at the ceiling a little more wide-eyed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took Eskel a second to realize what he’d said, and he too froze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I suppose that wasn’t the best time to say that,” he confessed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert tilted his head back down and looked at him like he was insane. He had a thousand questions rattling about in his head, but he settled on the easiest. “Is that true?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel pressed in closer, a warm smile on his face. Lambert felt the chill that had begun to creep into his bones retreat. “Yeah.” The kiss was more of a nuzzle, warm and full of affection. Lambert shivered. “I do love you, just didn’t mean to tell you while I have my cock in your ass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I happen to like your cock in my ass,” Lambert replied, flippantly. He didn’t exactly know what else to do, so he rocked down onto said cock. “I’d really like it if you fucked me now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel chuckled and kissed him again. Lambert made sure to return it with heat. He poured all of his confusion and excitement and disbelief into his responses, clenched down tightly and moved with Eskel as he fucked up into him. He’d think about what Eskel said later, when he was actually able to think, when he didn’t have the man that claimed to love him fucking him up against a wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, he felt the urge to say something; Eskel had confessed to him. That was a huge thing to give. All Lambert could do in return was let him know how much he enjoyed being with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, Kelly- missed you so much, missed this,” Lambert said, digging his fingers into the bulging muscle of the alpha’s shoulders. “You’re so gorgeous.” He drug his lips along the scars on Eskel’s cheek, sucked on his lips. “So good to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel took the praise and affection, groaning and picking up the pace. Lambert’s eyes rolled in his head as he got the angle just right, and his breath became ragged and punctuated with cries. The fact that he could hold him in his arms like this, hold his fiery nature close and feel the burning heat of his body was too much for him. Eskel felt his body tighten as his orgasm edged closer, too soon for his liking but as unstoppable as the tide. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sensing that their tryst was short-lived, Lambert reached between them and stroked himself frantically. The action caused him to clench down on Eskel, which only sped up the process.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They chased each other over, one after the other, and were left leaning heavily against the wall, legs shaking as they panted into each other’s mouths. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Missed you,” Eskel muttered into Lambert’s hair, finally letting the other man get his own feet under him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, missed you too, Kelly,’ Lambert said, swaying slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They migrated eventually to the bed, and Eskel fell into it hard, sleep already pulling at him. Lambert didn’t even complain; he knew the trail up to Kaer Morhen was exhausting, and he was lucky to have Eskel as awake as he did. They laid together, Eskel enfolding Lambert in his arms, and drifted off. It wasn’t exactly the evening of debauchery Lambert had hoped for, but it didn’t matter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had all winter.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next few weeks were interesting between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert was painfully aware he hadn’t said ‘I love you’ in return. He was also sure Eskel noticed this. The thing was; he didn’t know if Eskel even minded. The other wolf wasn’t one to push for reciprocation- as evident by how he left the escalation of their relationship entirely up to Lambert. He’d served the fact that he’d liked him up for Lambert to see, and then just left it there to await judgement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was painfully similar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their relationship stayed the same. They spent time together, played games, trained, worked on various projects. They quarreled and bitched over things, then made out on various surfaces. Lambert slept in Eskel’s room more often than his own, but they also took their own space when needed. Eskel loved the quiet of the library, and Lambert couldn’t stand the stillness of it. Lambert loved fiddling with his distillery, and Eskel winced at the smell. It worked well, it was nice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was just that, during all of this, Eskel </span>
  <em>
    <span>kept</span>
  </em>
  <span> saying it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Love you,” he muttered, kissing Lambert’s temple as he fell asleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Love you, you moron” he laughed as Lambert burned off an eyebrow when a potion backfired on him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See ya later, love you,” he called unabashedly as he left to go hunting for the day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It shouldn’t feel like every time was a gut punch, but it did. Lambert was left reeling or confused or just plain flustered as Eskel dumped the phrase on him. It happened at least once a day, and Lambert started trying to predict when. He waited for it, like a hangman waits for the stool to be kicked out from under him. Except, if he was honest, it wasn’t always with dread.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His first thought had been that it was a lie, but Eskel was not a liar. He was a painfully honest man, sometimes to his detriment. Lambert would be able to spot a lie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then perhaps it was said out of impulse, and nothing else. The repetition disproved that. Eskel wouldn’t keep saying it if it was impulsive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That left the most obvious: he was mistaken. Lambert didn’t know much about Eskel’s history with lovers, but he didn’t recall any long term ones. Lambert was around every winter, and he paid Eskel a lot of attention. He’d healed Eskel, taken care of him, fucked him and was close to him. It made sense he would think that he loved Lambert.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It shouldn’t have bothered him, thinking that Eskel was mistaken. It did, though. It crept in and bit at him when he woke up at night and counted Eskel’s heartbeats. It wriggled up and dug its claws in when he found himself watching the alpha across the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He has to be mistaken</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it said. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Who would love you?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The snow was sticking to the ground, now, and they spent more time indoors. Vesemir was less cantankerous than usual, which didn’t help Lambert’s moods. It was easier to take it out on the old wolf, bitch and yell and fight about nothing at all. Instead, he sat with all of his energy, all of his ridiculous feelings and obsessed over it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert wasn’t good at containing his frustration. He rubbed quelling oil into his skin daily, sniffed at his wrists when he got too agitated. More than once he cursed out Geralt for not being there. He would be attached to the beta’s side if he were. He also had the feeling that Geralt would be shoving him towards Eskel angrily after only a day, growling at him to iron it all out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The best path was the direct one, he supposed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen, we need to talk.” Eskel was in the library, reading pleasantly in front of the fire. Lambert felt like an ass for just bursting in on him, but he was at his breaking point, jittering out of his skin. The alpha only set his book down and gestured to the chair across from him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert couldn’t sit. “I need some clarification,” he said, pacing quickly from one end of a tattered old rug to the other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About what?” Eskel asked, irritatingly calm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What you said. Are saying,” he gestured vaguely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel just raised his eyebrows. “What am I saying?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert snarled and stomped to a stop, glaring. “Eskel,” he snapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lambert?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to scream, but settled on raking his hands through his hair. “You know. You’re telling me you love me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs. “Yeah, I do love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert was twitching. “How do you know?” He said, scowling. “And fucking why would you? I don’t understand why you think you love me, but it’s got to be wrong. Misplaced thanks for last year? Good sex? I don’t know what else it could be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me,” Eskel said, his voice clipped. He looked angry. The fuck was he angry for? “Don’t you fucking tell me what I do and do not know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert sputtered. “I just…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel cut him off. “Just because you don’t understand doesn’t mean I’m wrong,” he said, glaring. He pointed to the chair across from him, and Lambert sat, knees jumping as he bounced his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But- me?” Lambert asked, his voice strained. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The alpha rolled his eyes. “Yes, you’re an unbearable cunt. I get it.” Well that came out a little too easily, but at least it was true. Eskel sighed. He looked annoyed, but also pensive. “Let’s phrase this another way. Do you think that I’m handsome?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert balked and tilted his head. What the fuck did this have to do with Eskel’s feelings towards him? “I don’t get what you’re getting at, but yeah. I told you I do. You’re very handsome.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s my point. I don’t think so, at all. I think I’m hideous, and I can’t see why you would find me handsome.” Lambert puffed up, irritated, but Eskel continued. “However, I recognize that you do find me handsome, and I am not going to argue with you about it. It isn’t my place to tell you how you feel when you look at me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a fair point, but attraction wasn’t the same as love. Love was a big thing. Far too big to place on someone like Lambert. “I don’t get it,” he grumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel shrugged. “You don’t have to. You just have to believe me when I say I love you. You have to trust me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was the point, wasn’t it? Eskel wasn’t trying to manipulate him, he wasn’t using it as a lure or a condition. He simply was telling Lambert how he felt and Lambert’s opinion on whether or not that was legitimate was a moot point. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Lambert said, at a loss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay?” Eskel smiled at him, amused. “Just like that? Not going to fight me more on that? Not going to list to me all the ways I am wrong and why I shouldn’t?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh I can, believe me.” He crossed his arms petulantly. “I can make you stop loving me real quick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel looked completely unbothered by the threat. “Believe it or not, I don’t think you can. I’ve seen some pretty ‘unlovable’ sides of you and it failed to dissuade me yet.” The way he was looking at Lambert made him feel warm, even embarrassed- as if he were being scolded instead of confessed to. “I love you,” Eskel continued, “and more importantly, I like you and I know who you are, despite your insistence otherwise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sat in the quiet for a moment as Lambert tried to digest the information. Eskel was crazy, but he was genuine. He really did believe he loved Lambert, and Lambert didn’t know what to do with that. It was a heavy feeling to take on, one he was completely wrong-footed with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know if I can say it back,” he said, barely audible. It made him feel like shit to say it. What an awful way to respond.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t mind,” Eskel admitted, looking like he truly didn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert felt guilt burn in his throat, the intensity of it pushing the words from him. “I don’t know what it is, that’s why. I don’t know what it feels like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel smiled and stood up. Lambert mirrored him anxiously. The alpha leaned in and nosed his temple, sniffing softly at his hair. Lambert placed his hands on Eskel’s chest, just to feel his heartbeat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t describe it,” Eskel admitted. “Just know what it is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert furrowed his brow, unsatisfied. He didn’t like the unknown, the unpredictable. He’d hoped, strangely, never to know about love at all. It was a thing that led to pain and insanity and grief, and he needed none of that. Eskel certainly didn’t need it, either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grumbled and let himself be pulled into a longer embrace, soaked in the warmth and safety of it as his mind turned over and over again. He didn’t understand Eskel’s love for him, but he would make sure not to use it to harm him. Lambert had seen people ruined by the ones they loved. He would not do that to Eskel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel deserved better.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The solstice was two weeks away, and Lambert had spent time in the laboratory making the oils and his decoction. He took it every morning, swilling down the foul mix and dealing with the mild poisoning it caused. Eskel didn’t like that he felt the need to take it so long before his heat- it was almost a month out, but he kept it to himself. Lambert claimed it worked, and Eskel accepted that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Going to start sleeping in my own room,” he said from where he was laying sprawled on Eskel’s mattress. “Going to give myself a wide buffer, just in case.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The alpha knew he shouldn’t feel frustrated: Lambert was doing this for their safety, but sleeping alone for a month was not ideal, especially when he’d had a near constant bed partner so far. Normally he would bunk in with Geralt for some of that time, but with the other wolf gone, he would be solo. He had enough of being alone on the Path.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, what you’re saying is that I need to enjoy the benefits of your presence now?” Eskel peered over his shoulder and Lambert waggled his eyebrows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t reject a farewell fuck, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He hooked his thumbs in the hem of his britches and pushed them down far enough to show the ridges of his hips. Eskel couldn’t resist looking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had a weakness with Lambert’s flirting. It was wonderful to feel wanted, and since his mauling, no one looked at him hungrily. He became so used to the winces and the shock that a neutral gaze looked like a smile. Lambert’s lidded eyes and the suggestive way he sized Eskel up was still a thrill, even if it was daily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel turned and basked in the attention. “Well, you can give me one more night at least,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. He leaned back on one arm, loving that flex of his biceps under his shirt made Lambert swallow. He was getting wise to what set the omega off, and it was a fun game to play. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Lambert muttered, licking his lips. “Staying tonight is fine. Gotta get my fill before my heat hits.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel smiled and poignantly let his eyes trail up the long legs next to him. “Was thinking it might be nice to get filled, myself.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Lambert sighed. Eskel glanced up to see his pupils were blown wide. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want to?” Eskel asked. Lambert had a preference for being the receiving partner, though Eskel had to admit he did like it himself every once and awhile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The omega sat up and scooted closer. “You asking if want to fuck you?” A hand was already sneaking to Eskel’s waist, groping at the small roll of fat Eskel was starting to pack on his flank. Lambert had a thing for Eskel’s winter weight, and although Eskel didn’t understand it, he didn’t mind it either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I assume it’s a yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert was already nosing behind his ear, crowding his space. “Fuck yes,” he growled, pushing so Eskel was sitting up with Lambert pressed behind, his legs bracketing Eskel’s hips. “Yeah, I wanna fuck you.” Lambert nipped at the back of his neck and spoke into his skin. “I want to fuck you from behind, just like this.” His hands ran over Eskel’s ribs, kneaded the bulk of his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel hummed, enjoying the attention. “So I don’t need to ply you to fuck me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert groaned against him. “Eskel. Your ass is fucking stunning and your back is a godsdammed sculpture. Built like a fucking mountain.” Mischievous fingers pinched one of Eskel’s nipples and he jolted and growled. Lambert chuckled, his breath ruffling the hair at Eskel’s nape. “Just been addicted to your cock, is all, but if you’re willing to turn around for me I am not turning down a fucking feast.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was certainly an interested prick nudging the small of his back, and Eskel huffed a laugh. “Didn’t know the idea of mounting me was such a turn on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck yeah it is,” Lambert said, shimmying his hips. “Want it now. Can we do it now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel shook his head and swatted away the inquisitive hands, making his partner whine in loss. “Not now. Going to go down and help with dinner.” Vesemir was the best cook out of all of them, but that didn’t mean he had to do it all by himself. Eskel grabbed a jacket to shrug on before going down to the cold hall. “After we eat I’d like a bath, then we’ll have plenty of time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert followed him lazily and pawed at Eskel’s ass as he opened the door.  “Yeah, then let me get you relaxed and loose for me for dessert,” he growled. “Fuck, I’m going to be thinking about this all evening.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least there won’t be anything stuffed up your ass all of dinner this time,” Eskel said, grinning as Lambert prodded him hard in the ribs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thankless,” Lambert complained. “I withstood an hour of Vesemir’s chit chat with a plug in me for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe we can try that on me next time,” Eskel said, enjoying the pinkness of the omega’s ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not fucking helping.” Lambert grumbled under his breath and adjusted his cock in his britches. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dinner was pleasant and uneventful, but Lambert began getting agitated when Eskel offered to wash the dishes and clean up the kitchen, prolonging his time down in the mess. He began prowling about the kitchen, messing with various things and cursing under his breath. Vesemir sent him a few questioning looks, sensing his frustration and Eskel finally relented by telling Lambert to go draw a bath if he wanted to hurry things along. Their mentor hid his laugh in a cough and Lambert stomped off to do as he was requested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried to linger as Eskel came into bathe, but he shooed him off. Lambert was a distraction when it came to a bath. Inevitably there would be water everywhere and no one would be clean. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel returned to his room wrapped in a thick fur robe, one of the luxuries of home he could never have on the Path. Lambert was fussing about the room, half-dressed, and grinned excitedly when Eskel entered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fucking finally,” he bemoaned. “I was considering fishing you out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t,” Eskel said, shutting the door behind him. “I know how you fish.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tired of behaving, Lambert pounced on him, teeth nipping at his lip and his quick fingers working inside of the robe. “Been waiting as patiently as I can, Kelly. Come on.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck he was weak for that ridiculous nickname. It burrowed its way into his heart and made him glow with a happy warmth. They did a short, graceless dance over to the bed and Lambert shoved Eskel down onto it, pulling at the robe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get this off and roll over. Going to get you nice and relaxed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just going right for it, are we?” Eskel laughed and did as instructed, stretching out on his bedding. The room was comfortably warm, so the loss of his robe wasn’t too horrible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert grabbed at a bottle he’d set on the side table and kicked his own britches off. “Nah, going to treat you real nice. Can’t have you thinking I don’t appreciate this treat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel didn’t need to ask the plan, Lambert uncorked the bottle and poured a trickle of the oil down the center of his back, then hopped up to straddle Eskel’s ass. The alpha was immediately limp as strong hands began kneading the muscle of his back. Lambert worked the oil into Eskel’s skin, pushing the heels of his hands up the long cords of muscle on either side of his spine, digging his knuckles into particularly tight areas. Tenderizing the tight knots made Eskel groan long and low, a delightful mix of pain and pleasure. He never realized how much he needed a massage until he got one, and Lambert was good with his hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel was melting into his bedding, half asleep, by the time he felt Lambert’s grip shift downward to his ass. At first the touch was just like the others, simply working the muscle there with a strong stroke, but the thumbs of Lambert’s hands kept brushing inward towards the cleft of his ass. The contact with the sensitive skin made Eskel hum and push back into it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fingers left and Lambert shuffled. Eskel didn’t know what he was doing until he felt a warm breath against his skin and Lambert’s hands pushing his cheeks apart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fucking hell,” he moaned into his arms, trying desperately not to wriggle away from the hot tongue licking at him. He was rarely on the receiving end of his, but it wasn’t because he didn’t like it. Lambert seemed to be enjoying himself as well, pressing and swirling his tongue unabashedly. A finger slid in alongside his tongue, moving in tandem and gently stretching and softening the muscle of his rim. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel spread his legs further, trying to open himself up. Lambert laughed against his skin and obliged by adding another finger and wriggling them. The stretch was gradual and easy, Lambert taking his time to lick and fuck into Eskel with the same attentiveness he had worked on his back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel shivered as he felt the dribble of saliva down his perineum and sack. He was wonderfully hard, and his cock was trapped almost uncomfortably under him. For once, Lambert’s patience with something was driving Eskel a little wild.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lam,” he rasped, pushing himself up onto his elbows, </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m good, come on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert withdrew with an obscene noise, wiping at his wet mouth. “What’s that? Didn’t hear you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel groaned in both annoyance and need. “I’m ready, get up here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A bright stinging bite was planted on one cheek before Lambert sat up, and Eskel hissed at the sensation but didn’t complain. The ache afterward was nice enough to forgive the nip.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Without Lambert between his legs, Eskel was able to move some and he rolled up on one hip, relieving his trapped cock. “How do you want me?”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Lambert’s beard was wet and his mouth red, making Eskel shudder at the sight. “On your side is nice, I think. Want to bring your leg up?” Eskel complied, bending his knee so that Lambert could sit astride his other thigh while fucking him. “Gods, you look delicious,” he said, running his palms over Eskel’s leg and hip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bottle of oil was still on the bedding, and Eskel grabbed it up and shoved it towards his partner. “Hurry up,” he grumbled, his cock throbbing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You now know my pain,” Lambert said evilly, slicking up his prick and not moving any closer to fucking Eskel. “You were commenting on my impatience and you can’t even let me eat you out for more than a quarter hour.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Eskel reached down, trying to grab at Lambert and haul him closer. “Hurry up or I’ll mount you like a fucking horse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did say I reminded you of Bastard,” he said, grinning cheekily. He still hadn’t moved any closer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. He gave his cock a slow stroke to ease his tension.  “Don’t tease, Lam.” He knew he sounded pouty, but surprisingly it worked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert shuffled forward on his knees, and guided his cock to Eskel’s hole. “Sorry, darlin,” he muttered. “I’ve got you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’d been a long time since Eskel had felt this, and he groaned happily as Lambert pushed into him with slow rolls of his hips. For all the impatience the man embodied, he wasn’t moving fast at all. Eskel turned his torso so his shoulders touched the bed but his hips stayed on their side. He still felt relaxed from the massage, and sank into the mattress, letting Lambert do the work. The omega smiled down at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You alright? Like this pace?” He petted Eskel’s hip and leg, shifted forward so he sank just a little deeper. “Slow and easy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Eskel sighed, “yeah I like it.” He was boneless and simmering with arousal. He felt good, stretched and pampered and adored, and when Eskel saw the way Lambert looked down at him, he felt that he probably was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel expected Lambert to speed up once they established he could take it, to fuck him with the same pace and intensity he liked to receive, but he didn’t. He kept his motions measured and slow and rhythmic, even though it seemed to be an effort. A sweat broke out on his brow, and his breathing was tempered like he was struggling to calm himself. Eskel groaned and reached down, tangling their fingers where Lambert had him held by the hip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can speed up if you want, Lam.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head. “Nah,” he said. “I’ll cum right away if I do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh?” Now the tables had turned. So often Lambert teased and edged him, milked his cock then Eskel was barely holding on. It was nice to have that ability, now. The alpha clenched down on the cock inside of him, tightening the slide of it. Lambert gasped and shuddered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, Kelly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked so good, sweating and on edge from just a slow, leisurely fuck. Eskel felt his cock twitch at the sight of Lambert’s reddened lips, bitten and flush. “Come on, Lam.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He finally took the bait, moving deeper and faster, and Eskel groaned, loving it. He stroked his own aching cock and shuddered, enjoying the way the sensations blended together. He wasn’t about to last, either, having been hard so damn long. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They chased each other over, Eskel’s body tightening in orgasm made Lambert gasp and push deep, pulsing hot and wet inside of him. It felt glorious for a few brief, lusty moments, but the sticky wetness that seeped from him when Lambert pulled out had Eskel making a face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You princess,” Lambert teased, wetting a cloth and cleaning them diligently. Eskel blew him a kiss for his service and the omega growled and slapped his ass, making Eskel laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In bed with you, sleepy, useless alpha.” Lambert fussed about the room, stoking the fire and cleaning up before finally returning. He really did have more energy after an orgasm. Eskel just felt like he could sleep for a day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert got into bed, laying on his side and making sure the furs covered them both. Eskel would miss sleeping with him in the weeks to come. Even though the man snored like a hog sometimes, he was also an insufferably cute cuddler when half-asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cleaned up and settled in, Eskel nosed the nape of Lambert’s neck, ruffling the hair there. “Love you,” he hummed, just to remind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, Lambert didn’t tense up. Instead, he clasped gently at the arm wrapped about his waist. “Yeah?” He asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel chuckled. “Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a moment of quiet, and Eskel was sure that was the end of it. Lambert never responded to his confessions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except he did. “Well, thanks,” he said. He sounded surprised, either at Eskel or himself, and didn’t say anything further.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was enough.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Normally Lambert was first to rise, but this morning was different. Eskel woke feeling warm and drowsy in the dim room. The fire must have been too high when they fell asleep, because it was insufferably hot. At some point in the night, Lambert had kicked off the furs and lay naked, sprawled invitingly on his belly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Other than being overheated, Eskel was also very hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morning wood wasn’t unusual, and with a naked man next to him, Eskel even expected it, but this was an exceptional erection. Eskel ached, felt his pulse throb in his cock. Sleepily, he reached down to stroke himself. He was already weeping precum. Vaguely, he wondered if he’d had salacious dreams. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Feeling needy, Eskel shuffled closer to Lambert, rubbing his cock on the sleeping man’s hip. They’d woken each other up like this before, an incessant cock prodding one another until someone stirred. Lambert grumbled, and Eskel leaned in to kiss his shoulder. He smelled good. Eskel laid a wet kiss on his back, dragging his teeth over the bared skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert woke slowly, growling grumpily and staying where he was, yet still reaching back for Eskel. The alpha obliged and rolled over onto him, lazily pinning him down. Sleepy morning sex was a luxury, and Lambert’s growls turned to pleased moans as Eskel rubbed his wet cockhead on the cleft of his ass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe he could fuck his thighs, that would be nice. Eskel felt too sleep drunk to prep much further than that. However, before he had the chance to make a decision, Lambert had a hand around him and was lining Eskel up. He shoved back, and Eskel groaned as he pushed inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert took his cock easily. He must have been relaxed from sleep, and Eskel was dribbling precum to ease the way. Eskel could barely ponder it how simple it was; the wet heat closing over his aching prick was heavenly, and Lambert was moving back against him, restless. He didn’t have time to think about the how, he just knew he was in utter bliss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They moved lazily, both drowsy and wanting. Lambert grunted and growled under Eskel’s weight, squirming as he was pinned to the mattress. His fingers clawed the bedding as Eskel fucked into him and he twitched his hips back in tandem, trying to get him deeper, harder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The back of Lambert’s neck and shoulders were gorgeous, and Eskel couldn’t resist sucking bruise marks into his pale skin. He bit and kissed and hummed sweet, unintelligible nothings to him. Eskel was alert enough to know he needed the right angle to make his partner melt under him, and he shifted himself upward just enough to make his cock hit just right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert shuddered beautifully and whined, pressed back into him harder and Eskel loved the feeling of covering him up, consuming and pleasing and protecting his mate. He rumbled low and sweet in his chest, soothing the very gasps he was driving out of the man under him. Lambert had begun to sweat, struggling under Eskel’s dense weight and cloistered in the hot room, his skin picked up a sheen of moisture. Eskel lapped at it, loving how their skin slid against one another as they moved. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pressure on Lambert’s prostate was driving him wild, and the noises from his mouth grew louder, less human. He bucked and snarled and begged, edging closer and closer and Eskel was following suit, losing himself in the mess and rawness of it. He was close, hazy and tingling and aching for it. He loved this, loved Lambert, loved the smell and taste of him so much he couldn’t resist it. Eskel tentatively nipped the back of his mate’s neck, and he wanted so badly to bite down, so he did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It may have been the added flare of pain from the bite, or the particularly hard thrusts that followed it, but Lambert stiffened under Eskel and shouted, coming against the bed linens. Eskel was close to follow, the clench on his cock too much to bear any longer. He sunk into Lambert’s twitching body and spilled into him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel laid heavily on Lambert’s back, huffing quickened breaths onto his sweat-damp skin. He felt so tired, placated and hazy. He rubbed his lips across Lambert’s shoulders, brought a hand up to stroke his hair. The omega was still gasping under him, twitching and overstimulated and belatedly Eskel realized he must be crushing him. He should get up, roll off of him to let him breathe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took a moment to get his wits about him enough to try to get up on his knees, but the motion was cut short as Lambert yelped and moved with him. The tug on his cock was just short of painful and Eskel grumbled, confused. He looked down between them, where his hips were pressed close to Lambert’s ass, and he moved again, slower. Lambert grunted and moved with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh. He was stuck. He had a knot. That wasn’t supposed to be happening. He wasn’t in a rut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somewhere, something in the back of his mind screamed in alarm, yelling instructions and warnings, shocking him enough to be vaguely aware that this was not good. Lambert was growling now, displeased with the painful tugging, and the noise was more wild than his normal grumbling. It made the hair on Eskel’s arms stand up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The panic that was struggling to grab his attention was shoved to the back of his mind, and he knew he needed to do something to please his omega. He’d hurt him, and that was bad, that was very bad. Eskel pressed them close together again, licking and kissing at what skin he could, petting down Lambert’s arms and ribs as he pinned him flat to the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert snarled and turned his head, long canines showing and eyes thinned in anger. Eskel’s weight prevented him from twisting about, but the tension in the body under him grew and Lambert’s muscles tightened, the boneless relaxation of relief now gone. He ripped the linens under his fingers, and Eskel whined an apology. He just wanted Lambert to be satisfied, to be happy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tension snapped as Eskel shifted his hips, his knot slipping free. Untied, Lambert rounded on him, flipping Eskel with ease. The alpha landed flat on his back and didn’t move, instinct begging him to stay still, to do nothing but submit. Lambert’s teeth clamped down on his bared throat, his snarl wet and terrifying. The force of it broke Eskel’s skin and restricted his breathing. Lambert bit like a wolf executing his prey, brutal and efficient. Eskel whimpered with his strained breath; it hurt. He smelled blood, but laid still. He was harmless, harmless. Why would he hurt him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blackness crept in on the edges of his vision, but just as it threatened to overtake him, Lambert let up, allowing Eskel to pull desperate breaths. The omega’s mouth was wet with blood, dribbling down his chin and into his beard. His pupils were blown as he stared down at the alpha.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel gasped under him, but laid still. He shouldn’t move, not even make a sound. He was hurt, but not dead. The omega hadn’t killed him- he still needed him. He could still be useful if he just complied. He wanted so much to be useful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert swayed atop him, sitting astride Eskel’s hips. When it appeared the alpha wasn’t going to make any move against him, he relaxed a little, shifting about to inspect his prey. He smelled good- strong and appealing and making the heat flare in him. A docile, obedient alpha. A good sire for a babe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Easy to best, easy to take. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The omega shifted atop his prize, reaching back to grab at the now flaccid cock under him. The aggression had his heat roaring, and he wanted to be filled, knotted again. In this position he could hold the alpha down, keep him in his place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a pained whimper as too-rough hands stroked the cock to a reluctant hardness. There was little ability to resist against the onslaught of stimulation and heat-stink. The omega’s smell was nearly pungent, now, and the alpha was dazed by it. His heart was slowing from fear to complacency, and the omega growled happily. He could control this alpha, easily. Could keep him at bay and take what was needed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the cock in the omega’s grip was hard enough, he shifted, letting it slide into him. The feeling was glorious, thick and perfect and hot. He dug his fingers into the muscle of his prize’s chest, holding himself steady as he bounced on his cock. He could ride this for days, and would if the alpha held up and survived. If this alpha failed him, he would be easy enough to dispatch. No one wanted a weak sire for their progeny.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Under him, the alpha whimpered in pain, but made no move to retaliate. If anything, he reached up to stroke at the omega, to please him. How lovely: obedient and eager. The omega growled out a moan, licking his blood-wet lips. He liked this one. He’d never had a proper alpha. It was beautiful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The added friction against his cock made the omega shudder. He was filled up just right, relishing the scent of rutting alpha and spilled seed. He ground down hard on the cock inside of him, rattling the bed frame. The alpha jolted under him, flailed out as their hips connected hard. His arm knocked something down, and a glass broke against the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A new smell tore through the room, strong enough to flush out all the others. It froze all movement, rippled into their skin, breaking through the fog of ancient instinct and aggression. It smothered the animalistic parts of their brains and reality rushed in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel’s brain cleared only a second before Lambert’s, and he had only enough time to dislodge the fingertips buried in his flesh before Lambert caught up. A broken sound came from the man above him, a wail he’d never heard before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was off of Eskel in an instant, throwing himself across the room. His hands scrubbed at his mouth as he spat wildly, and Eskel realized Lambert was tasting his blood. He clasped a hand to his neck, slowing the bleeding, and sat up. Lambert stared at him, eyes wide in terror as he took in the gouging scratches and blood painting Eskel’s body. He stumbled back against the wall, naked and shaking, and looked down at his bloody hands. There was skin under his fingernails. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wail turned into a scream, like the kind the boys let loose in their Trials, a howl and shriek in one. Lambert clawed at his face in desperation, slammed his back against the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel knew he needed to get out, immediately. Lambert had gone into his heat in the night and he was feral. He realized, with horror, how compliant his own body made him in response, how it simply allowed Lambert to take what he wanted with no regard for his own safety. It was terrifying. He glanced to the floor and saw the broken bottle of Quelling oil, their only saving grace. Eskel needed to run before it wore off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Lambert, Lambert looked like he’d witnessed a massacre. His face was slack and pale, making the bright red splash of Eskel’s blood all the more jarring. Eskel knew he had to leave the room, but he wanted so badly to go to him. Not just because of their pheromones or instinct, but because he smelled terror and pain and he knew it wasn’t only him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He managed to get up from the bed, hand still clasped to his neck. He stared at Lambert, both frightened and desperate to comfort him, and found it hard to move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even within his terror and confusion, Lambert found he was able to speak. “Eskel,” he whimpered, “run- please.” He gritted his teeth, folded into himself. “Get out.” Eskel barely moved, a single step towards the door. It wasn’t fast enough for Lambert. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get out!” His voice was broken and terrified, and Eskel felt an uncontrolled Aard hit him, sent him staggering out the door. The cold of the hall jarred Eskel’s senses and he rounded about, slamming the door of his room behind him. He needed to bar it, close him in, find a way to keep him there, but he was shaken and wounded, wrong-footed in a way he rarely experienced. Eskel stared at the closed door and listened in dismay at the noises inside his room, at Lambert’s loud screams of agony and confusion, at the clatter of thrown furniture. He had to move, to clean his wounds and find clothing, but he couldn’t just leave, he couldn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eskel?” Vesemir was bounding up the stairs, pale and startled. He hadn’t seen his master look that way in decades. “Eskel, what happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert punctuated the silence with another scream, and Eskel saw Vesemir’s nostrils  flare. The old wolf huffed in confusion, coming closer to Eskel. “It’s too early,” he muttered, eyeing the door. He’d drawn a clean handkerchief out of his pocket and pressed it to Eskel’s neck. “I didn’t sense it. How did it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel let his elder hold him up, and realized Vesemir was pushing him down the hall, herding him to Geralt’s empty room. He was right: it was too soon. It wasn’t even the solstice, they had two weeks left, at least. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“New decoction,” he rasped, wincing at his voice, “must have sped it up. Masked it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vesemir shook his head, glancing back and forth between Eskel and the closed door down the hall. He was drawn between his two wards, worry flooding the air around him. Once inside of Geralt’s room, however, the old wolf seemed to make up his mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me clean you up, boy,” he said, rifling through what was left over in Geralt’s room. He found a small bottle of clear spirits, and poured it on the torn skin on Eskel’s throat and chest. The sting was jarring, and Eskel told himself that was the reason his eyes were watering. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vesemir didn’t leave the room for supplies, but made due with what was left over. The wounds weren’t deep, but they were messy. The bite of alcohol permeated the room, overpowering the iron tang of blood. Vesemir ripped one of Geralt’s old shirts into strips, cleaned and bandaged Eskel’s mauled neck and tended to his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t think you’ll need Swallow, but I can get it for you if you like,” Vesemir said, turning to pull out more of Geralt’s left over clothes. “Borrow from Geralt until I can get yours from your room, alright?” He handed a shirt and pants to Eskel, who pulled them on slowly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were both quiet for a moment, and Vesemir fussed, pacing the room and coming back to Eskel’s side where he sat on the bed. The old wolf sat next to him, swallowed loudly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, lad,” he whispered, voice careful and wounded, like he truly was. “I was worried about this happening without Geralt here.” He sniffed, frowned at nothing. “I’m too old to be of much use and Lambert wouldn’t allow my interference, but I wish I could have prevented this.” Eskel stared at his master, trying to think of what to say. It was an accident, no one was to blame. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought about forbidding it, some good it would do. It’s just…” the old wolf continued, the words coming as if he couldn’t help them, “I’ve never seen him so happy. Not since before the Medallion...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel felt his chest clench, the sting in his eyes was relentless. Vesemir wrapped an arm around his shoulders and Eskel was too weak to resist. He leaned into the old strength that was his teacher, let the faded scent of his quelling, decades past his prime, calm him. Vesemir sighed shakily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry, son. You don’t deserve this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel knew Vesemir meant he and Lambert both. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vesemir stayed at Eskel’s side for near an hour, propping up his student and letting Eskel calm. The wounds on his chest closed, and the bite mark scabbed over. Vesemir was determined to not allow it to scar. He would mix up a proper healing tincture to heal the tears in the skin over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vesemir had been carefully monitoring the sounds down the hall, listening to Lambert’s wailing and destruction. It’d grown quiet half an hour past. Lambert had worn himself down. They needed to barricade the door and keep him inside, and Eskel would have to be sent out to the tower. Even down the hall, he could smell the cloying sweetness of the heat, and Eskel would not feel well until he was free of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Quelling oil, do you have more somewhere?” Vesemir finally asked, breaking the silence. Eskel’s heart had finally slowed to its glacial pace, and the stink of fear was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should be some in Lambert’s room. Big batch there. The rest is in my room.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vesemir nodded. “I’ll fetch it from Lambert’s. I don’t want you leaving this room without a store of it. Fish through Geralt’s supplies, get clothing for the week and I’ll escort you out to the tower.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the best plan, the most reasonable. Vesemir may not be able to quell Lambert, but he could protect Eskel and get him away. He’d give Lambert water and care after the alpha was out of his influence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel agreed and moved slowly about Geralt’s room, breathing deeply as he opened a chest. Geralt’s scent still lingered, slight but perceptible. For the first time in his life, Vesemir cursed the white wolf for his absence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hall was eerily quiet. Vesemir felt his shoulders tighten, and he strained his ears as he passed outside of Eskel’s door. He should hear Lambert’s breathing, his heartbeat. The old wolf prickled with tension and approached Ekel’s door, his mission waylaid. He tried the handle slowly, prepared for an attack upon entering the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>None came. The room was empty. Vesemir scanned it briefly, but knew Lambert wasn’t there. He ran down the hall, trying to track the scent of him. The redolent smell of his heat was overpowering and spread across the whole wing. Vesemir threw the door to Lambert’s room open. A chest was overturned, tossed through hastily. His bedroll and swords were gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He must have gone for the watchtower, taken his weapons out of impulse. His room was much less saturated in scent; he hadn’t been there long. Vesemir was irked he hadn’t heard the young wolf move, but then again, Lambert was the lightest on his feet out of his brothers, and they had been distracted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vesemir grabbed a bottle of Quelling oil, left out on the mess of a desk, and returned to Eskel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His student sensed his disquiet immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s happened?” Eskel asked, stiff-legged and anxious. Vesemir opened the oil and dribbled some on his fingers, swiping the perfume on Eskel’s wrists and cheeks, covering him with the safety of the scent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lambert’s out of your room. Grabbed supplies from his own.” Vesemir kept his voice level as Eskel tensed. “He’s probably gone to the watchtower, boy. Don’t worry. I’ll set your room right and then follow him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel agreed, reluctant, and Vesemir set about airing out the wing, opening the doors to the bitter winter air to flush out the smell. He pulled Eskel’s bedding, only slightly wincing at the blood smeared on it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His poor boys.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The worst of the stink dissipated, Vesemir escorted Eskel down into the main hall. He insisted on feeding the poor wolf first, filling him with warm food and drink, one of the only ways Vesemir knew how to love them. Eskel’s hands were no longer shaking, but Vesemir knew the pain was deep and poisonous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once Eskel was settled, Vesemir took to Lambert. He splashed himself with the Quelling oil. Hopefully it would keep the omega from getting at his throat. He took a few supplies as well, drink and an extra fur. Lambert would be in horrible shape, but Vesemir would do what he could. One of the pairs of snowshoes was gone, and Vesemir strapped on another and ventured out into the cold. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was still mid-morning, and the bright white of the snowdrifts were blinding. Vesemir exited the gate and stopped, puzzled by what he saw. The watchtower was to the right, up on the rise near the trailhead. Lambert’s tracks turned left, followed the Gwenllech down the valley. Vesemir cursed. Lambert was attempting to descend the mountain in the thick of winter. It was foolish. Suicidal even for a healthy witcher. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had a few hours on them. If Vesemir had set out to look for him as soon as he’d realized Lambert was gone, he stood a chance of catching him. Now, it would be hopeless. Vesemir was too old to keep up with Lambert. Lambert, who was most likely driven by grief and anger, throwing himself down the mountainside in desperation. There was no catching him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel was already waiting at the gate,wrapped in a cloak. His eyes were wide and the slits of his pupils a thin line. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s gone down the mountain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel startled and rushed past Vesemir, sinking in the snow. He was in only his boots and cloak, hardly even dressed for the weather. The old wolf grabbed him, wrenching him back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He can’t make it down the pass, Vesemir,” Eskel’s voice was on the verge of breaking, his movements frantic. He fought against Vesemir’s hold, but his strength was failing, weakened by his body’s pheromones. “He’ll die. He’ll freeze. Vesemir, he can’t make it down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The old wolf dropped his supplies and enfolded Eskel in his arms, letting the bigger man lean into him. He smelled the bite of salt; Eskel’s tears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll die if you follow. It will take an hour or so to get the supplies prepared to go down, and by then he will have half a day on you.” Eskel shook his head, but Vesemir knew he understood. “If you do catch him, he’ll still be in his heat. He’ll be lethal, Eskel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If he dies…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vesemir grunted, pushed Eskel back far enough to look at him. “Have faith in our young wolf,” he said, trying to convince himself as well. “He does not have your skill in signs, nor Geralt’s mutations, but he is still alive when the rest of our brethren are dead.” Eskel swallowed and nodded. “He’s a tenacious little shit.” Vesemir couldn’t help the small smile on his lips, the glimmer of hope for his youngest. “The weather will be clear the next few days. He will find his way down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel finally seemed calm enough for Vesemir to release him, and the old man herded his last wolf into the warmth of the keep. Eskel sat heavily in front of the fire, smelling of blood and worry. Vesemir brewed him cider and prepared his favorite meal. Eskel was quiet and haunted, a brittle man. Vesemir wrapped him in furs and demanded nothing. Brought him books and sat near in silence. He knew he was poor company for a broken heart, but that didn’t stop him from being in Eskel’s shadow for the rest of the winter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vesemir only had one pup left to protect, and he needed all the care he could manage. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>CW: blood, sexual assault</p><p>Sorry about that, but Barmin did tell us all in the first chapter what to expect, it’s just unfortunate that it happened to a happy couple.</p><p>Hey Geralt, where the fuck you at?</p><p>(Last part should take a minute. Lots to mend, here. May be split into two parts. Check out my twitter (@FennDarcy) for updates... or like, just comment.)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. What Can Be Salvaged</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Geralt is on a mission to mend what he can. Eskel and Lambert are both in need of it.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>FYI: This is pre-Renfri, so I made Geralt less traumatized and standoffish. He hasn’t had his heart broken yet. 😬</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter Five: What Can be Salvaged</strong>
</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p>Geralt crossed the Pontar just as the ice broke, stopping in a small village east of the bridge for the night. His new Roach was a younger mare, two years and spirited, but not used to a long march with an armored rider. He’d been pushing her more and more every day to strengthen her legs and back. He didn’t like to ask too much from his horses, but the sooner she acclimated to a life on the Path, the better. He stabled her at an inn, having just enough coin to pay to sleep in the smallest room. It was still the off-season, and the innkeeper didn’t have enough occupied beds to turn him out. </p>
<p>“Not too bad,” Geralt said, scratching Roach’s ears. She ate her oats greedily and flicked her tail. He rewarded her hard work with a good brushing. She liked to step on toes, this one, so he made sure to practice his footwork.</p>
<p>His winter had been strange. Geralt spent several weeks of it in someone’s cellar, holed up with a healing leg that he shattered in the rockslide that killed his last Roach. Even with a potions it took a while to regenerate the bone and flesh, and he didn’t have the ability to hunt down a mage. His benefactor was nice enough to let him lurk in his cellar as he healed. Geralt’s only consolation had been the letters sent to his benefactor from Eskel and Lambert. They were funny and heartwarming in turn, but he could only read a piece of paper so many times in the dark chill of a root cellar. </p>
<p>Being cold, wet, hurt, and lonesome did not do well for his morale. As soon as he was able, Geralt was out walking Temeria, kicking through the light snow, looking for a new Roach. </p>
<p>Thankfully, he was paid well for his fateful contract, and even tipped. His benefactor felt decently bad about the loss of his horse and shattered leg, and apparently had a witcher for a great uncle some generations ago. At least there was some luck in that. </p>
<p>Now, with spring barely encroaching and a new horse, Geralt made his way north again. It didn’t feel right, not being at Kaer Morhen. He’d been bothered by it all winter, so he made his way to Kaedwen. He would go to Daevon, see if there were any early contracts for some thawing drowners, and wait for the other wolves to come through. He wouldn’t bother them long- they all had duties to the Path, but he needed to see at least one of his pack. He needed to know they were well. </p>
<p>Certainly he hoped they were faring better than he was. </p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Geralt spent two weeks just south of Daevon, clearing out some wraiths from an abandoned manor and stabbing whatever monster came out of hibernation. The pickings were slim, and money was scarce for all. He let himself be seen. Rumors of a witcher’s location traveled fast, and he expected one of his pack would catch wind of his position soon. The Gwenllech was swollen and fast, meaning the mountains began to shed their snow. Someone would be coming down soon. </p>
<p>He was out of coin for an inn, so Geralt made due with a camp. It’s still cold and terribly wet, so he built a small shelter with scrap wood and old logs. It wasn’t a carpenter’s work, but with a waxed canvas thrown over the frame, it kept him and his cookfire dry. </p>
<p>The beginning of spring was always a pain. It wasn’t as horrendously difficult as surviving winter, but the lack of foliage and thin game was never helpful. Thankfully, Geralt was near the Gwenllech, and spring meant spawning. Fish were easy enough to net, and he gorged himself on the fatty eggs the females were carrying upriver. </p>
<p>By the time the first fiddleheads began to show from the mud, Geralt got anxious to move. Perhaps he had come too early, perhaps it would have been better to push up to Ard Carraigh and wait there. He decided to move north again. </p>
<p>The night before he set off, a slow heartbeat drummed in the dark, accompanied by two others- one the reverberating boom of a horse’s heart, and the other the small, fast tap of a goat. Geralt smiled at the eye shines that glimmered in the forest, and stood up to greet his kin.</p>
<p>Eskel came near enough to be caught in the firelight, leading his mare and the nanny goat, Bertha. He nodded to Geralt, hesitant, and tied his mare to a tree next to Roach, letting the two horses nose each other. The goat got a tree of her own, free from larger hooves.</p>
<p>“I see you have a new Roach,” Eskel said, nodding to the brown mare. Her white stripe was wider than the last Roach, and her stockings were up to her knees. “Pretty thing,” Eskel commented. “Sorry you lost her predecessor.”</p>
<p>Geralt allowed the small talk only because he knew Eskel truly did care. “She’s spirited,” he said. “Not very skittish, which is good. Less likely to throw me. Doesn’t bite as bad as the one before.” </p>
<p>Eskel nodded, smiling gently. Geralt wanted so badly to rush forward to hug him, but something was wrong. Eskel didn’t look like a man just coming off of a retreat in the mountains- he looked like a man who had been drinking himself half to death. He wasn’t thin, no- there was a healthy amount of weight on his frame, but his skin was wan, his eyes sunken. He looked bruised around the edges, sodden and sleepless. Geralt didn’t like it.</p>
<p>“Eskel,” he whispered, trying not to fidget, “please come here.”</p>
<p>He obeyed slowly, not quite making eye contact. Geralt’s gut tightened in worry; this was not how they greeted one another. Something was wrong. He leaned into his friend’s space, lifted his arms to embrace him, and stopped cold. </p>
<p>Eskel flinched. </p>
<p>Geralt felt ill.</p>
<p>“Eskel,” he said, eyes frantically darting over his companion, as if he could see the problem physically.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Eskel muttered, moving in of his own accord. He wrapped his arms around Geralt’s ribs, completing the hug. Now embracing, it seemed like Eskel’s grip was too tight, borderline painful. The alpha shuddered up against him and Geralt felt relieved when Eskel began to breathe deeply, scenting him. They clung to each other longer than normal, and Geralt had the distinct feeling he was holding Eskel up. </p>
<p>“What happened?” Geralt whispered, rubbing his cheek against Eskel’s hair. He smelled distressed and tired, only the slightest bit happy. At least Geralt could give him that. “Eskel, what’s going on?”</p>
<p>The other wolf finally pulled away, wincing. “Let me get my stuff unpacked and settled, first. Maybe some food.” Geralt had plenty of fish- that was hardly a problem. “Then I’ll tell you.”</p>
<p>Geralt settled back into the lean-to and watched Eskel unsaddle his horse and bring his pack to the shelter. He fed him egg-swollen fish and the last of his beer, and never once let his eyes wander off his brother. He knew Eskel like he knew himself, and a dozen different horrible stories were warring in his head about how the wolf got this way; why had he flinched from something as simple as a hug from his oldest companion? Every story was worse than the one before. </p>
<p>Eskel must have sensed his tension, because he swallowed a mouthful hastily and gave Geralt a look.</p>
<p>“First of all, no one is dead, so stop sweating about that.”</p>
<p>Geralt sighed in real relief. That was one of the worst scenarios he could think of, and one of the only reasons Eskel would look the way he did. </p>
<p>Eskel took a deep breath. He looked to be working his words out, trying to figure out how to explain what he needed to. </p>
<p>“There was an incident,” he said, looking out into the cold and damp night, “an accident.”</p>
<p>“Who?” Geralt checked Eskel over again, trying to see how he could be injured. If not Eskel, then Lambert, Vesemir... “What happened?”</p>
<p>Eskel drank the last of the jug of beer and frowned. “Lambert went into heat two weeks early,” he muttered. “In the middle of the night, in my bed.”</p>
<p>Geralt felt his whole body tighten in alarm, but he didn’t move to interrupt.</p>
<p>“He got his teeth into me,” Eskel tapped his throat, where Geralt could see the ghostly marks of new scars. Well tended to, but still fading. “Clawed me up. It’s irrelevant,” he waved it off, as if he didn’t just tell Geralt he’d nearly had his throat torn out by their fellow wolf, by his own lover. “No permanent injuries. His feral streak didn’t last long, and he came out of it when a bottle of Quelling oil got knocked over.”</p>
<p>Geralt sat, still as stone, and stared at Eskel. His chest was tight and cold, and all the warmth from seeing his dearest friend was sucked out of him into the dark. “Fuck,” he whispered, blinking frantically as he managed to get his wits about him. “Are you okay?”</p>
<p>His brother shrugged. “Just some scratches.”</p>
<p>Geralt thinned his eyes. “Eskel.” He knew better than to lie to him. Geralt knew every nuance of his voice, every tell in his posture. It was what made him so easy to beat at cards. They knew each other so well that they could suss out a problem instantly.</p>
<p>Eskel relented and wiped a broad hand across his face. “It’s not nice,” he said, voice rough, “seeing the person you love with your blood on them.” He winced, the expression pulling at the scar tissue on his lips, contorting it into a snarling grimace. “What’s worse is hearing them scream in terror when they come to.”</p>
<p>Geralt wanted so badly to lean in, to comfort- but it wasn’t time for that, now. He needed to know what happened, what the damage was. “What did you do? Did Vesemir—”</p>
<p>“He was already down in the galley, came up when he heard the screaming. I got out of the room by then. Lambert had enough sense to push me out.” Geralt nodded, following along. So they both had their moment of sanity amidst the madness, came to in the middle of their nature's cruelest instincts. “Shut Lambert in my room. The old man took care of me, but Lambert-” His voice got tight and he swallowed loudly. He finally turned to look at Geralt, and Geralt felt his chest ache. “He left, Geralt.”</p>
<p>That had not been what he expected to hear. Lambert, in the middle of his heat-madness and rage, left? “What do you mean?” He asked, stunned. </p>
<p>“Just that.” Eskel gestured out into the night. “He took what clarity he had, grabbed his gear and threw himself down the mountain in the middle of winter. He left.” </p>
<p>They sat silent for a moment, Geralt staring at Eskel, who stared out into the distance. Geralt’s mind was rushing. No one just left in the dead of winter- the pass was blocked, and it was a lethal trip. For Lambert to try to scale down The Killer, to trace the cliffside trails, all while mad on his pheromones? Eskel told him at the beginning that no one was dead, but Geralt failed to see how that was true.</p>
<p>“One part of me is thankful he did leave,” Eskel burst out, like it was building up behind his lips in the quiet, “because it was a nightmare. He was frightening, Geralt.” Just as he said it, Geralt saw the guilt rear up behind it, the shame at his own relief. “The other part of me is furious, because he could very well have died.” He shut his eyes, measured his breath. “I walked down The Killer in the spring looking for his broken body in the snow melt. I expected it around every turn.”</p>
<p>“You didn’t find him.”</p>
<p>Eskel shook his head and Geralt sighed as some of the tension in him released. “I told you. No one’s dead. Crazy shit made it down in the middle of his heat. Contacts in Ard Carraigh said he staggered through at the solstice looking like a fucking madman, but he was alive.”</p>
<p>“Fuck.” A flicker of pride came to life. Lambert was such a tenacious cunt that even death was daunted by him. </p>
<p>Geralt sagged his shoulders, taking all the information in. Eskel’s hesitance made sense, as did his overall mood. He should have been there for him this winter; to clean him up, to heal his wounds. Instead, it was left for poor Vesemir, alone up on the mountain, and Geralt had failed him. </p>
<p>“Eskel,” he muttered, leaning into his space, “I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>This time he didn’t pull away or flinch, and allowed Geralt’s proximity. “It was an accident.”</p>
<p>“No. I should have…” he paused, the words bubbling up angry, filled with regret. “If I was there, this wouldn’t have happened.”</p>
<p>“That’s not true.” Eskel finally looked at him. The skin under his eyes seemed thin and sleepless. “I thought about this,” he said. “The decoction he and I worked on two years back? It has to be the reason he went early. The reason he didn’t notice the onset and I didn’t smell him.” Eskel shook his head. “He was still eating normally, no mood swings- nothing. There was no way to know.”</p>
<p>It didn’t matter. Of course it was an accident-Lambert would never have put Eskel at risk intentionally. What mattered was that Geralt wasn't there. He could have caught Lambert, soothed Eskel, mended all of this before spring came. “I should have been there for you. I didn’t have your back.”</p>
<p>Eskel laughed, and it was warm. The affection in it felt like a sip of hot cider. “You came up from Temeria as soon as you could and have been creeping on my route waiting for me to come by,” he teased, a slow smile pulling his lips. “You are here for me. You’re right here.”</p>
<p>Finally, Eskel shifted to open his arms, leaning in the rest of the way to allow the embrace Geralt was so desperate to give him. He’d never do this with anyone else, cling to them and get in their space, rub their cheeks together and breathe deeply. The tension that held him all through winter melted away and Geralt hummed appreciatively in Eskel’s arms. Geralt may have been a beta, but Eskel’s scent was just as soothing. It meant home, love and safety. Trust and acceptance. </p>
<p>“I’ll be okay,” Eskel whispered against his ear. “I’m not going to fall apart, just a little bruised.” They pulled apart enough to rest their foreheads against one another. Eskel frowned, his eyes downcast. “Worried about Lambert, though. I had Vesemir to take care of me. He was alone.”</p>
<p>Geralt mumbled his agreement. Out of all of them, Lambert was the most emotional, and something like this- this could be lethal. Geralt would spend a few days with Eskel, feed him and keep him close, joke and bond before they went their separate ways. Then, he would set out after Lambert.</p>
<p>Amongst the wolves, it was the beta’s duty to keep their brethren safe. He had left them alone, left them to tear each other to shreds. </p>
<p>He wouldn’t fail them again.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>Lambert was hard to track.</p>
<p>Certainly, most witchers were hard to track, especially when they didn’t want to be found, but Lambert was especially sly. Geralt wondered if he would have made a better Cat or Viper with how light-footed his fellow Wolf was. What trail he could find led him down through Aedirn, even further south to Lyria. Lambert never usually strayed this far, and he was working as he went, making Geralt redundant in his wake. There was barely any contracts for Geralt to work, and his summer was lean and frugal. It didn’t matter. There was plenty to eat in the forests and fields, and his hunt was more important than collecting coin. </p>
<p>He realized that at some point Lambert must have caught wind he was following, because his trail became erratic. He started skirting towns, leaving contracts untouched, and hiding his campsites. Still, Geralt’s senses were sharper than most of their kind, and he was not easily shaken. </p>
<p>It was late summer by the time the younger wolf gave up. He left obvious clues, blatant tracks. They were damn near in Sodden at the time, so far off his regular route that even Geralt was puzzled how they ended up there, when the chase ended. Geralt entered a small village and a little girl ran up to him, waving him down.</p>
<p>“Other cat-eyes said to stable your Roachie. Said he’s ‘gettin a fucking drink’.” She looked utterly gleeful to repeat it, obviously overjoyed an adult told her to cuss. Geralt handed her an Oren and lead Roach to the stalls, paying for a bucket of oats before heading inside. </p>
<p>The familiar figure was at a table, hunched over a beer with his eyes already centered on Geralt. Lambert looked worse than Eskel had. His beard was overgrown and haggard, and his skin sallow, with purple discoloration around the eyes. His hair wasn’t kempt with the usual beeswax, and fell loose and long across his brow. He sighed into his drink as Geralt neared him.</p>
<p>“Got me, huh?” He muttered, swirling his ale. “Alright, let me finish this. It’s actually decent.” He drained his mug, licking his lips. He looked to be savoring the last of it for a quiet moment, and then stood. “Alright then. Let’s not do this here.” He shouldered past Geralt, making for the door. “Come on, wolf.”</p>
<p>Geralt didn’t know what to do but obey.</p>
<p>He’d been following Lambert for so long, so keen on finding him, that he had thought of dozens of ways this could go. This was not what he was expecting to find. He thought he would encounter a crazed man, a wild dog. Lambert was calm, drained and starved. He didn’t even smell distressed at Geralt’s appearance.</p>
<p>They walked through the village, Geralt trailing behind, trying to figure out what was happening. Obviously, he wanted privacy for their conversation. They veered off the road, passing through a grove of trees to a small clearing. It had tall grasses, some trampled. Lambert had already been here, chose this spot. There was an area that had been cleared away. It had a stack of wood and tinder on it. </p>
<p>Lambert stopped there and began to unbuckle his swords. “Sorry for the chase, went on a bit longer than I should’ve allowed it,” he said, breaking their strange silence. Lambert set his swords on the ground, then shrugged out of his gambeson, leaving himself in just his threadbare, filthy shirt.</p>
<p>“I wasn’t going to just let you run off,” Geralt muttered, trying to figure out what was happening before him. </p>
<p>Lambert nodded, then peered up at the sky. “Nice enough day, I guess,” he said. He was nearly swaying on his feet, eyes wide, taking in the patchy blue above them. A deep, tired sigh escaped him. Lambert kneeled down to a meditative pose and sat still, his hands in his lap.</p>
<p>Geralt was very confused. “Lambert, what are you doing?”</p>
<p>Lambert tossed him an incredulous look. “If you think I’m going to fight you, I won’t.” He shook his head, looked out over the clearing. “Got close enough to do it myself, but you were hunting me. Figured I’ll let you do it, save me the effort.”</p>
<p>Something cold and terrible sunk its claws into Geralt’s chest. “What are you talking about?”</p>
<p>“Don’t be stupid, Geralt,” Lambert grunted in annoyance. “Feral beasts should be culled. No cure for it.” He smiled ruefully. “Was a coward before; the height got to me. They would find me in the spring. Would have been unfair.” He winced. “Didn’t want to throw a contract, either. They were all so easy. Death by fucking drowner is such an embarrassment.” Lambert gave Geralt a quick once over. “You, though? That’ll do.”</p>
<p>Geralt felt like he’d drank too many potions, and his stomach was turning with bile and poison. He moved closer to Lambert, his hands empty and shaking, and kneeled down as well. He was unmoored, and anchored himself best he could, by grabbing the man in front of him in his arms.</p>
<p>Lambert snarled and twisted against him, caught by surprise. He pushed at Geralt’s chest, hit his ribs with mean jabs. Geralt’s armor prevented anything landing correctly, and his grip only tightened.</p>
<p>“Don’t!” Lambert sounded more like himself, furious and frantic. “Don’t you fucking dare, Geralt!” He thrashed against the hold, an animal caught in a trap, desperate to be free. Geralt was unmovable. </p>
<p>“You have to!” Lambert said, his voice holding a tinny note of hysteria. “You have to do it.” Geralt grunted as Lambert’s frantic movements knocked them askew. He pressed a sturdy hand to the back of the omega’s head, tucking Lambert’s face against his neck. “No,” Lambert pleaded. His voice was weakening, softening as his rage burned into grief. “You should protect him, and I—” he choked  on his words, and suddenly the fight fell out of him. </p>
<p>“Geralt,” he whispered, still and horrified. “I can’t stop seeing it. I nearly ripped his throat out.” It was a quiet confession, more intimate than anything they’d shared before. A plea. “I’m a monster. You have to.”</p>
<p>Words were hard for him, not something that came as freely and eloquently as they did for his brethren. Geralt didn’t know what he could possibly say to convince his brother to live, to forgive himself, to seek forgiveness. He wasn’t a poet. He wasn’t a philosopher. He could barely absorb the tableau laid out in front of him. Lambert planned on dying here, in this clearing. He’d collected wood for his own pyre. He’d drank his last drink. He set his swords aside and knelt in the soft grass and looked at the wide blue of the sky and accepted it all as necessary. </p>
<p>He didn’t know how to fix this, but he would try.</p>
<p>Geralt pet Lambert’s hair, greasy and unkempt under his fingers, and synchronized their breathing, making each breath longer. Lambert’s heart slowed as he sagged against Geralt. There was a tremor in his frame. He smelled of sorrow and pain, the burnt stink of anger at Geralt’s rejection barely detectable.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Geralt whispered, rubbing their temples together. He didn’t know what he was apologizing for. For Lambert’s nature? For the accident that befell them? For not being there to stop it? For Lambert feeling like he deserved death? He was sorry for it all.</p>
<p>An overgrown beard bristled against Geralt’s neck as the younger wolf spoke. “Why did you chase me, if not to kill me?” He sounded exhausted, and leaned heavily against Geralt’s more sure frame. “Why are you here?”</p>
<p>“Heard what happened,” Geralt said, glad he didn’t loosen his hold on Lambert as the man renewed his struggle against him.</p>
<p>“Then you know!” He barked, pushing at Geralt’s chest. He didn't have much energy in him, not enough ire to break away. Geralt’s quelling scent had calmed his body, preventing an actual fight. “You know what I did.”</p>
<p>“I know what your body forced on you.” Lambert’s struggling lessened, but he still scoffed at Geralt’s statement. “It was an accident, Lambert.”</p>
<p>“I was the one that made that decoction,” he growled, all of his anger focused inward. “I was the one relying on an untested potion to keep Eskel safe. I fucked it up. I nearly killed him.”</p>
<p>Geralt sighed. Lambert was always so much for him to handle. His emotions were turbulent and potent, they bled into the air around him. It was what made their relationship so difficult; Geralt didn’t know how to navigate through the tempest without worsening it. He knew no matter what he said, Lambert would argue with him, and he had to withstand the bluster of his denial. </p>
<p>In the end, he went for the lowest hanging fruit: “Eskel is worried about you.”</p>
<p>Lambert stilled in his arms. His breath was shaky. “Is he okay?”</p>
<p>Geralt bumped their heads together affectionately and finally let Lambert pull away, just to see his face. “I saw him in Daevon. Looked tired,” he said, honest. Lambert was too shrewd to lie to. “He said he walked down The Killer, afraid he would see your body on the rocks below.” Lambert winced at having his own prediction confirmed. “He would have come after you himself if I didn’t push him off the task.” </p>
<p>In a rare occurrence, Lambert didn’t say anything in response. He looked despondent. Geralt knew he needed to say something else as well, something he felt hadn’t been clear to the young wolf before. </p>
<p>“I was also worried,” he muttered, “about you. I am still worried.”</p>
<p>Lambert peered at him from weary eyes, evaluating the truth in his words. Geralt seemed to pass, because he backed down with a long sigh. “What a fucking mess.”</p>
<p>That was more than accurate. “Yeah,” Geralt agreed, “but it can be fixed.” He ignored Lambert’s doubting scowl. “If we turn northeast tomorrow, we may make home by winter.”</p>
<p>“I can’t go back,” Lambert rasped, incredulous. “I’m going as far south as I can stand. You go north, you tell him you found me alive.” And then, quieter. “You tell him I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>Geralt growled in annoyance. “You own your fuck ups, Lambert. You think this accident was your fault? You go apologize, yourself.”</p>
<p>Fuck, he should have kept calm. Lambert always responded to fire with fire, and Geralt could see the anger rearing up, ready to strike back. But suddenly it was gone, sputtered and burnt out; the last burst of a flame before its death. Lambert simply looked away from him, face blank.</p>
<p>Geralt stared in shock. He truly was in a horrible state, to not even fight back.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Geralt muttered, “I shouldn’t have said that.”</p>
<p>“You’re right.” Lambert sat back on his heels. He looked grim. “I can always trust your blunt ass to tell it to me fairly, at least.” He sighed, the long breath ending in a growling rasp of frustration. “You’re going to make me go back, aren’t you?”</p>
<p>Geralt wasn’t entirely stupid to Lambert’s way of talking; he knew it wasn’t a question, but a request. Make me go back. Make me do it. Lambert wasn’t a coward, he was a pessimist. Geralt knew that the young wolf thought the worst of himself, even expected it. Expecting Geralt to kill him was part of that. </p>
<p>“If I have to, I will.” Geralt let a teasing note enter his voice. “Want me to tie you to Roach?”</p>
<p>A small smile pulled at his lips. “So you got yourself a new one, huh?” And then, because Lambert never was completely predictable, he said, “Sorry about losing your old one.”</p>
<p>Geralt blinked, shocked. Lambert didn’t give a fucking hell about animals, especially horses. It was the main reason he never had one, but he was being sincere. He was sorry that Geralt had lost his beloved mare. </p>
<p>Eskel really did wonders for him, it seemed. Made Lambert more friendly, more empathetic and open to a kind word- and Lambert made Eskel happy, made him feel wanted and important. </p>
<p>They really were good for each other.</p>
<p>Geralt nodded to Lambert, acknowledging his sympathy. He liked this new connection, and he was going to use it to mend what was broken. He would get his brethren back up the mountain. He would fix this. </p>
<p>They deserved it.</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Although they were getting along better than the years before, it didn’t mean Geralt and Lambert were a seamless fit. It seemed that after having his death-plan ruined, Lambert was keen to drink  and fight his way into some sort of punishment. Geralt learned quickly on their path north that it was best to avoid civilization. Lambert could get into a fight in a miraculously short amount of time, and after the third incident of him laying into belligerent townsfolk, Geralt just walked around settlements altogether.</p>
<p>That, of course, meant Lambert then wanted to fight him at every opportune moment. </p>
<p>“I can’t believe you fucking build a fire like that. Stupid.” Lambert was sitting, sullen and cross-legged on his bedroll, watching Geralt build the fire. Geralt was more than aware that anything he did was an invitation for Lambert to bitch at him, but how he built a fire was new.</p>
<p>He couldn’t resist. “How do you do it, then?”</p>
<p>Lambert grumbled and shuffled forward, grabbing the sticks from Geralt’s hands. “I make a fucking steeple, like any normal person. Gives the fire more air.” He deconstructed Geralt’s square layout and changed it to a triangle with a peak. “See, more compact, but more room to breathe.”</p>
<p>Geralt glared blandly at the wood and flicked it with an Igni. “Sure,” he muttered, not seeing how it mattered.</p>
<p>Lambert wouldn’t let up. </p>
<p>“Did they even teach you survival, old man? Or are you too posh for that?”</p>
<p>“Still alive, so it must not be too bad.”</p>
<p>“Must be all those extra mutagens,” Lambert sniped, irritated Geralt wasn’t biting back with any real anger. “Because breaking your leg like an amateur certainly wasn’t going to keep your head on your shoulders.”</p>
<p>Geralt rolled his eyes and returned to prepping their meal. Lambert was fine with eating the pheasant raw, but Geralt wanted to at least warm it up. </p>
<p>“Seriously, that why your dumb ass took the striga contract?” Lambert glared at him from where he was sitting next to the fire. Geralt could smell the acrid scent of his stress and anger. He hadn’t given in to Lambert’s complaining all day, and it was starting to drive the younger wolf mad.</p>
<p>“Took the striga because it needed to be done,” he said, prepping the bird on the spit. “Little girl was cursed, and she’d already killed Remus.”</p>
<p>“Oh so let’s let her kill us, too?” Lambert threw up his hands. “You find Remus’s body and thought, yeah let her add to the fucking collection? You’re an idiot.”</p>
<p>They’d talked about the contract before, briefly. Geralt knew Lambert was angry about the striga- about the fact that Geralt nearly died trying to lift the curse. He had the scar on his neck to show it, but both he and the princess were alive, and the problem was solved. </p>
<p>“It worked, didn’t it?”</p>
<p>Lambert snarled at him, fangs flashing. “That’s not the fucking point. What is it with you? You find a dead brother of yours and think, ‘I can do better than this guy, I can handle it.’ You think you’re so fucking special you can just succeed where the rest of us will fail?”</p>
<p>Geralt frowned at the other wolf. “No,” he muttered, confused. That wasn’t it at all. The girl needed help. She didn't deserve that fate- and Remus, he needed to be buried, to be avenged. </p>
<p>“So fucking blessed by destiny that you can do anything, that it?” Lambert was riled, his body coiled tight like he would strike out. “Extra mutagens, strong, pretty and in-fucking-vincible, huh? A fucking beta on top of it. Which goddess’s cunt did you lick?” </p>
<p>Geralt huffed and turned the bird over. </p>
<p>“You know what’s even more fucked up?” Lambert continued, not waiting for a response. “You don’t even realize it. You think you’re fucking cursed, a nasty little wretch- that’s why you do that dumb hero shit, like fight a fucking striga.”</p>
<p>“Which is it, Lambert” Geralt sighed, “Am I pretentious or am I servile?”</p>
<p>Lambert leaned forward, the fire throwing harsh shadows across his face. “You’re both. You think you’re shit to be tread on by all of humankind, happy to die for those who treat you like a beast.” He sneered unkindly. “But you think you’re much better than the likes of me.”</p>
<p>That did catch Geralt off guard. “I don’t…”</p>
<p>Lambert wouldn’t allow it, already rearing up onto his knees, ready to launch himself over the fire at Geralt. “Cut the shit, wolf. Admit it! If it wasn’t for me sewing up Eskel’s face you never would have let him near me!” He laughed, harsh and too loud. “You think I forgot all the years before when you ran interference?”</p>
<p> Geralt winced. There was a modicum of truth to that. Geralt was protective of Eskel, and Lambert had always been a tumultuous man, quick to fight and reckless with words. Eskel had been partially smitten for nearly a decade, and Geralt knew he needed to be wary. Eskel was soft where Lambert was harsh. He’d only been looking out for them.</p>
<p>The young wolf cackled at Geralt’s reaction, knowing he was right. “Then I stitch him up, and suddenly you’re encouraging us? You push him over in my direction, you come to quell me in my heats?”</p>
<p>“You rather I didn’t?” Geralt snapped, finally defensive.</p>
<p>Lambert looked victorious. “You want me to come back to make Eskel feel better, because that poor bastard is in love with me.” He was standing now, stiff-limbed and alight in anger. “You’re not doing this because I’m worth the effort.”</p>
<p>Geralt stood as well, frowning deeply. “That’s not true,” he said, hating that part of it was. </p>
<p>“Fucking liar,” Lambert snapped, rounding the fire. “You’d never have let the likes of me get his hooks in Eskel. Must be so confusing for you. Why would someone like Eskel go for something like me?” Lambert shoved him and sneered, his too-thin face looking so much older in the harsh light. “Maybe when he got uglied up a little he was less perfect for you, then you could finally let me have your leftovers.”</p>
<p>Lambert knew what would get a rise out of Geralt, and he should have seen it coming. He should have been able to keep control of himself, but Geralt was weak when it came to Eskel.</p>
<p>He swung a fist loosely to Lambert’s face, and was nearly alarmed when it was allowed to connect. The wolf grunted and grinned, the bright red burst of his split lip painting his teeth. First blow thrown, Lambert struck. </p>
<p>They weren’t fighting to win, it wasn’t so much about that- this was energy and anger and a need to let it out. Lambert fought like a bastard, mean jabs in tender places, quick and sharp and nasty. Geralt had weight and muscle on him, and Lambert wasn’t bothering to dodge blows. He let them land, leaned into them. Geralt felt a rib crack under a strike, and the sensation of it— the knowledge that Lambert wanted him to do it, wanted the pain— made him falter. He pulled his next hit short, barely putting force behind it.</p>
<p>Lambert punched him in the face for his efforts.</p>
<p>“Don’t you fucking go soft on me,” he snarled, mouth wet with blood. He was wheezing from the cracked rib, the pain no doubtedly shortening his breath. “You were never fucking soft on me!”</p>
<p>Geralt blocked the next strike, then grabbed Lambert’s wrist, yanking him off balance. The young wolf snapped his teeth, yowling angrily as Geralt trapped his arm beneath his back, twisting it just enough to get control. He kicked the back of Lambert’s knees, sending them both to the ground.</p>
<p>It took a good minute of wrestling to get Lambert pinned, but Geralt had weight on him, and the cracked rib was just debilitating enough to give him the advantage. Geralt got him belly down, and pushed his wrist to Lambert’s nose, wanting him calm. The rib would heal easily by morning as long as Lambert didn’t make it worse.</p>
<p>“Fucking cheater,” the omega screeched, trying to avoid the quelling scent that Geralt exuded. He bit down on Geralt’s arm, drawing blood. Geralt hissed, but didn’t move; the scent would do its job in a few seconds.</p>
<p>Sure enough, all of the fight and anger spilled out of Lambert, chased away by the pheromone. Unfortunately, in its wake was a hollow sadness that left Lambert limp and despondent under him.</p>
<p>Geralt let up on his little brother’s back, and the teeth withdrew from his arm. He turned Lambert over, already inspecting his wounds. A few bruises, a split lip and cracked rib. It wasn’t too terrible, but it never should have happened in the first place. Geralt had fallen right into the trap Lambert laid for him. </p>
<p>They lay there panting, Geralt not quite letting Lambert up, one hand steady on his shoulder. Lambert blinked blankly to the night sky. He would have a black eye in a few minutes. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Geralt blurted. “For not treating you right,” he explained, trying not to quail as Lambert’s foggy gaze slipped over to stare at him. There was truth to Lambert’s accusations, and Geralt was unaware how deeply he’d cut the other wolf. “I’m not better than you.” Geralt paused, grimaced. He wasn’t good at this. “I just don’t know how to talk to you.”</p>
<p>“If you’d fucked off this summer, you’d never have to again,” Lambert grumbled. He looked tired, worn through. </p>
<p>Geralt wanted to crowd him once more, but this time to comfort. “I want to,” he growled, lowering himself to lay in the dirt alongside him. “I want to know how to talk to you.” He felt a flair of anger, but it was solely at himself. Had he been like this before the mutagens? Had he always been unable to read certain people? To understand their veiled meanings? To talk to them in a way they would understand? He had a feeling it was deeper than what the mages did to him, that it was some part of his being as a whole. </p>
<p>Lambert scoffed. “Don’t like failure, huh? Have to be perfect for everyone.”</p>
<p>That wasn’t what Lambert meant. Lambert talked around what he meant, and Geralt needed to stop and look for the intent beyond the words. The thorns were designed to keep others away from the prize. “No, just good enough for the people that matter,” he responded, staring at Lambert’s profile. He watched his brother scowl as he understood.</p>
<p>“Just because Eskel is foolish enough to care about me doesn’t mean you have to.” The blood from his split lip and the bite to Geralt’s arm painted his lips red. It was a strange mix between feral and pretty. </p>
<p>Geralt sighed and bumped his forehead against Lambert’s shoulder. Patience. Lambert didn’t believe words as much as action, and even then, he didn’t trust things to be real. It was Geralt’s job to be patient and persistent. That’s how Eskel got through to him. Geralt owed him that. </p>
<p>“You’re worth the work,” Geralt said, reminding himself as well. “You’re difficult and irritating, but you’re worth the work.” He wrapped around Lambert’s chest in a one-sided hug, careful of the rib. The silence that greeted him was both shocked and pensive. He’d let Lambert stew on it.</p>
<p>“Come on,” Geralt muttered, sitting up slowly. A lovely purple bruise was blooming on Lambert’s cheek and eye. His breathing was rough. “Let’s get your rib wrapped, then I want you to take half a dose of Swallow.” Geralt stood slowly, pulling Lambert up with him. The fact the young wolf allowed it was encouraging. </p>
<p>Lambert was largely quiet as Geralt wrapped his chest and made him take a pull of potion. He laid down and stared up at the sky in silence, and Geralt dealt with the pheasant over their much-debated cook fire. </p>
<p>When Lambert was still quiet by the time they laid down for the night, Geralt felt the smallest bit of worry. He hadn’t pushed too hard, had he? He was trying so hard to understand, but had he gotten it wrong?</p>
<p>“Hey,” Lambert grunted from across the campfire, interrupting Geralt’s stewing. </p>
<p>“Yeah?”</p>
<p>“‘M sorry,” he murmured, avoiding eye contact, “for putting it on you. It’s not your mess.”</p>
<p>Sorry for taking up your time.</p>
<p>Geralt rolled over in his bedroll, facing his brother. “It is my mess,” he said, determined. “It’s my job to make sure my brethren are safe, and I wasn’t there to do it.” This wasn’t about him, he needed to refocus. “Lambert,” Geralt said, waiting until the telltale eyeshine was turned his way, “there isn’t anywhere I would rather be.”</p>
<p>A small smile ticked the other wolf’s lips. “Good old Geralt, trying to fix everything.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Geralt grunted, cuddling into his pillow. “So shut up and let me.”</p>
<p>Lambert chuckled in the darkness, and settled in. When Geralt opened his eyes again to check on him, the younger wolf was fast asleep.</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Travel became easier after that. Lambert was less likely to pick fights, and Geralt had an easier time figuring out how to talk to him. It seemed to work from both ends; Lambert was clearer and more frank with his statements, broadcasting his intent to Geralt as well. The added effort made them both more comfortable, less likely to fight and more at ease during their teasing. They took on contracts as they traveled, making short work with two sets of hands, and bought a raggedy gelding for Lambert to help shorten their traveling time.</p>
<p>It was nice. Geralt was surprised how easily they found their cadence. Everything seemed close to pleasant. </p>
<p>That was, naturally, until they reached the foot of the Blue Mountains. </p>
<p>“What the fuck am I doing?” Lambert growled to himself, just enough for Geralt to hear. “This is so fucking stupid.”</p>
<p>Geralt let him simmer, watching as the younger wolf paced, running his hands through his hair. To an outsider, he looked furious, but to a witcher’s senses, he reeked of nerves. It was a strange scent on him. Lambert was one for fits of rage and indignation to mask his anxieties. It made him good in a dangerous fight. </p>
<p>The fact he was anxious at all had Geralt watching closely. He was fairly certain he wouldn’t run or take a fatal leap off the Killer, but he didn’t trust Lambert to be reasonable on the week-long journey up the mountain. It was late in the season, and the merchants they spoke to had already seen Eskel pass days before. He would be at the peak when they arrived. </p>
<p>They’d avoided talking about what would exactly happen when they reunited. Lambert had no doubt been agonizing over it, but Geralt knew he was no help when it came to wording things. When he and Eskel fought they ended up with silent apologies, small gifts and gestures, wordless nods that mended what was bruised. </p>
<p>Then again, Geralt had never tried to kill Eskel. He didn’t know what he would do in Lambert’s position.</p>
<p>By the time they stopped for the first night, Geralt could hear Lambert’s teeth grinding from a hundred feet off. He passed his younger brother a bottle of rye to calm his nerves, but it seemed to have no effect. The other wolf was drenched in a flop sweat, gleaming in the firelight. It was bitter cold already in the night, and Lambert was shivering openly.</p>
<p>Geralt took a deep breath. “Calm down, Lambert,” he said, keeping the command as gentle as he could. It wouldn’t be helpful for the other wolf to think he was being bossed around. “It’s going to be okay.”</p>
<p>But Lambert wasn’t Roach, and Geralt’s gentling voice failed to do much other than turn the anxious attention on him.</p>
<p>“How would you know?” He barked, voice strained. Lambert’s pupils were thin slits, the gold drowning out the black. He looked nearly animal.</p>
<p>Geralt tilted his head. The irritation was just energy, pent up and swirling, and Geralt was an available target. Lambert’s ire didn’t mean anything personal. It was fear, a shunned emotion, and not easily handled. Geralt could at least attempt to ease it.</p>
<p>“Because it’s Eskel,” he said, simply. </p>
<p>Lambert wiped a hand over his face, smearing the nervous sweat and wincing at the feel of it. He smelled like a caged dog. “What the fuck can I even fucking say, Geralt?” And just as simple as that, the real meaning was there. Geralt ignored and discarded the anger, and Lambert let him see the wound. They were learning, slowly but surely. </p>
<p>Lambert shook his head. “I attacked him.”</p>
<p>Geralt wasn’t going to deny that, but it wasn’t so simple. “It was an accident.”</p>
<p>“It doesn’t matter,” he snapped.  </p>
<p>Yes, it really did. “Would you have ever attacked him in your right mind?”</p>
<p>Lambert looked disgusted. “What? No, never.”</p>
<p>“Then it wasn’t you that did that. It was the instinct driving you.” Geralt poked at the fire, thinking back on what he’d seen when the keep was full and solstice hit. “You never saw the full effect the season had on Kaer Morhen,” he said. “Betas were alert and assigned to watch certain brothers. We ran interference, aided heats, quieted ruts.” He thought of the nights he had held Eskel against him, the alpha desperate for contact and safety. He thought about the one time he got to Gweld just as he was pinning and clawing at an older alpha, desperate for relief. “Accidents happened. Men who were as gentle as a babe to their brothers would rip into each other. It makes you mad. You two were just very unlucky.” </p>
<p>Lambert shook his head and sneered at him. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “Drunk on pheromones and insane with a heat, it was still me. I still did this.”</p>
<p>Geralt sighed. “Eskel loves you,” he said, staring Lambert down over the fire. He didn’t know what Eskel had or hadn’t professed to Lambert, but Geralt knew Eskel like he knew himself. “He will forgive you.”</p>
<p>The fact that Geralt could see the ache in Lambert’s eyes was evidence of how low his brother felt and how far their relationship had come. He felt the simultaneous feeling of warmth and sorrow at the revelation.</p>
<p>Lambert twisted his lips in frown. “I won’t,” he said, barely audible over the pop and hiss of the fire. </p>
<p>Geralt could relate to that. There was so much he’d done that was wrong, that was unforgivable. He’d failed and people had died, had been maimed, had been lost. He could never forgive himself for that, but he could accept it. They were all guilty of that sin; a long life meant a long time to accrue their regrets.</p>
<p>Lambert sighed and shoved at his bedroll, making to settle in for the night. Geralt was struck with a sudden urge, and he didn’t bother to fight it.</p>
<p>“Hey,” he said, shifting over on his own mat, “come here.”</p>
<p>Lambert looked genuinely surprised. “Why?”</p>
<p>“It’s cold tonight,” Geralt said, simply. He pulled the bearskin he’d harvested and tanned that summer over into his bedroll. Side by side, it would cover them both.</p>
<p>Lambert stood awkwardly across the fire, clutching the thin mattress. He seemed to be debating himself, fighting with the promise of warmth and comfort at the expense of his pride. “You don’t need to,” he muttered. </p>
<p>“I want to,” Geralt admitted, brash and open. He had to give if he wanted to get. Their conversations were a trade. “Come here.” Lambert came over and laid his mattress down. Geralt had him closer to the fire, and wrapped the thinner man in the bearskin as well. </p>
<p>“Plus,” he added, shifting in behind him, “you are always so bitchy when you’re cold.”</p>
<p>That earned him a stifled laugh, and Lambert relaxed against him. They both smelled of sweat and dirt and musk, but it didn’t matter. It wasn’t unpleasant, but a comfort. It was obvious Geralt’s quelling was tangible by the way Lambert hummed and became nearly boneless next to him, breathing deep until he fell into sleep. Geralt enjoyed the extra warmth in the cool mountain air. He didn’t hold Lambert to him; he wouldn’t initiate anything. Lambert needed to do things his own way, but allowing this comfort was a good step, and Geralt was pleased with it. </p>
<p>The next day, Lambert didn’t grind his teeth, and only snarled at Geralt once. That night, the omega laid down next to him without hesitation, and took a moment to lean in and draw a deep breath against Geralt’s skin. His eyelids fluttered as the quelling soothed him, and he slept like the dead. </p>
<p>When they woke to Lambert using Geralt’s arm as a pillow, nestled to his side, neither of them paid it any mind.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Eskel was alone for the first day at the keep, Vesemir having gone out on a longer hunting trip. The deer rut was on, and the beasts ran about completely blind to hunters, ready to be plucked off and hoarded away for winter. </p>
<p>Being alone was familiar, but Kaer Morhen was not a pleasant place to haunt by oneself. It was dilapidated and hollow, slowly being retaken by the mountain itself. Soon, it wouldn’t be suitable for a small clan of witchers. </p>
<p>The quiet stillness of the ruins felt strangely reflective of his mood, recently: vacant and crumbling. </p>
<p>Vesemir returned mid morning the next day, with three deer slung over the back of the work mule and the old horse, Bastard. Eskel was desperate for the noise and work.</p>
<p>He didn’t even mind Bastard stepping on his foot. The irritable personality was welcome. He’d missed it.</p>
<p>“This horse is such a shit,” Vesemir complained, hauling the gutted deer off of its back and onto a tarp. They would skin them out in the yard, where they could tan and sun-dry the leather. The’d bring the rest in for butchering. </p>
<p>“Still haven’t eaten him, though,” Eskel said, nearly smiling when the horse glared at him with its one baleful eye. </p>
<p>“Nah,” Vesemir grumbled. “I got used to him. That, and he carries his weight.” The old wolf was scowling down at his work, dragging the knife under the deerskin and peeling it back. Eskel untacked the horse. </p>
<p>They hadn’t talked about Lambert since the actual incident. After Eskel’s recovery, Vesemir shared books and recipes with him, persistent and distracting. He’d done well to get Eskel’s weight up and his body rested, but the glaringly obvious wound to them both wasn’t addressed. Eskel wasn’t sure if the tactic helped or harmed them.</p>
<p>Still, work was a great distraction, and there was plenty of it laid before them. Eskel had no doubt that Geralt would return this winter, so stores needed to be replenished and the pantry fattened. The mechanical work of tanning hides and butchering meat was nearly ritualistic in its familiarity, and Eskel let himself get lost in it.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>When he saw two men coming up the mountain, Eskel needed to take a long walk about the Keep, a stiff drink, and an hour of meditation. Vesemir saw as well, and watched Eskel closely. The old wolf even went so far as to set a sturdy hand on his shoulder as he passed, letting the weight of it be a reassurance. </p>
<p>Regardless, there was nothing Eskel could do to prepare himself. He almost wished he could let Geralt in first, wrap himself in the strong comfort of his oldest friend. Unfortunately, wishes were pointless things, and one worked with what was given. Instead, Eskel waited for them on a bench in the courtyard with a flask of alcohol in one hand and fistful of grain in the other. Bertha ate merrily out of his palm, and was obliviously happy in only the way a well-fed goat could be.</p>
<p>When he heard them passing through the gatehouse, he struggled not to jump. Bertha nudged his empty hand, begging for ear scratches. Eskel shuddered and complied. </p>
<p>He focused on the soft fur on her ears, rubbing at the stiff cartilage the way she liked. He pet over the notch she’d gotten from a rogue dog. He’d been so angry he’d put the offending animal down and crafted a special poultice just for Bertha to help it mend. </p>
<p>The distraction wasn’t enough, however. Having enhanced senses didn’t allow for it. Out of the corner of his vision, Eskel could see them come into the courtyard. Lambert trailed in Geralt’s shadow as they stabled the new Roach and another horse Eskel assumed was Lambert’s. They unpacked the animals, and Eskel tempered his breathing, forcing it to slow. He didn’t know if he could get up to greet them. He should be standing, should already be at the stables, helping with the bags. Instead, he sat still, and let Bertha nibble on his britches.</p>
<p>Hushed voices passed between Geralt and Lambert, too quiet for even witcher ears. One was tense— fearful, and the other was warm and reassuring. Eskel blinked in surprise as he saw Lambert lean into Geralt’s space from his periphery, and pull the other wolf into a long, swaying hug.</p>
<p>“I’m right here,” Geralt said, loud enough for Eskel to hear. It was intentional, and Eskel felt his heart skip. He’d said it for both of them: it’s alright, I’m going to be right here.</p>
<p>Lambert seemed to steel himself, and began to walk across the courtyard. He was too thin. Eskel noticed it because he hadn’t yet brought his head up to look at his face.</p>
<p>Long legs stopped before him, only a few feet away. His leathers were in awful shape, the boots nearly unsalvageable. Eskel frowned at them.</p>
<p>Lambert reached out to tap at Bertha’s rump, and the goat turned to look at him curiously. She sniffed and bleated and stepped aside to let him closer. There was room on the bench next to him, plenty for Lambert to sit and talk. He didn’t go for it, and moved directly in front of Eskel.</p>
<p>Lambert sank down to his knees at Eskel’s feet, kneeling in the dirt and goat shit like it was nothing at all, knelt there with shaking hands and wide eyes, and said Eskel’s name like a benediction. </p>
<p>The fear, the anxiety and anger that plagued him, the bone-deep regret— it was banished, cast off easily as if blinking sleep from his eyes. Lambert was right there, alive and warm and brimming with emotion, and Eskel felt it seep into the hollow ruins around them. </p>
<p>Alive. </p>
<p>He’d forgotten the long months he’d waited atop the mountain for the pass to clear, unsure if he would find Lambert in the thaw. He’d forgotten that mixture of grief and fury, the uncertainty of knowing if he’d see that face alive again, or frozen and cold in a drift of snow.</p>
<p>Seeing Lambert alive, even as he was, worn and thin, haunted about the eyes- it brought that feeling back. A reverent knelt before him, and Eskel reached out to touch a sallow cheek before it would crumble back to dust. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Lambert whispered, his voice breaking. “Fuck, Kelly, I’m so sorry.” He shook against the palm cupping his bristled cheek. He was so warm. Solid. </p>
<p>Lambert leaned into the touch, eyelids fluttering as he struggled to blink away the wetness on his lashes. A sound somewhere between relief and sorrow sighed from his lips. </p>
<p>Oh, Eskel had missed this man. He’d missed his smell, the scent of woodsmoke and alchemy, sharp and dark and imprinted on Eskel’s soul. He’d missed his voice, his face, his ridiculous hair, smeared with waxy pomade. He’d woken from many a nightmare with Lambert painted in his blood, worried he would never be able to recall his face without the poison of that memory. He should never have worried. There was no poison strong enough to kill what laid between them. He’d said it himself, the winter before.</p>
<p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> “I can make you stop loving me real quick.” </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> “Believe it or not, I don’t think you can.” </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>Eskel always tried to be an honest man. He should have trusted himself.</p>
<p>Lambert’s eyes squeezed shut, and he spoke again, the words lurching and agonized.  “I hurt you and I hate it, I hate it so much.” He swallowed harshly. Eskel felt the damp brush of Lambert’s eyelashes against his thumb. “I wanted to die for it,” he admitted. Eskel knew there had been truth in his fear, that the last time he would see Lambert alive was as a madman. </p>
<p>“Kelly, you deserve so much, and I don’t—” his voice faltered and he tried again. “I can’t…”</p>
<p>Eskel stared at the harsh furrow of Lambert’s brow, the painful rictus he was caught in. He leaned forward and pressed his uneven lips to Lambert’s forehead, as if he could smoothe it.</p>
<p>The kiss had the opposite effect, and Lambert seemed to break further, gasping a wet breath. Witchers had difficulty forming tears, but certainly they could cry.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” he sobbed, heaving the words out with every exhale. Eskel pressed his other hand to the opposite cheek, as if to hold him steady as Lambert fell apart. “I’m so sorry.”</p>
<p>Yellow eyes, brilliant with unshed tears, stared up at Eskel. </p>
<p>“I love you, Kelly,” Lambert said, sure as an oath. “I’m so sorry that I hurt you.”</p>
<p>The entire year, Eskel wondered if he’d be able to forgive Lambert, if he’d be able to let the incident go. It was alarmingly easy how those feelings fell away. He felt nothing but his love and his admiration, and the happiness that came with having those things reflected back upon him.</p>
<p>Eskel hummed and slid off the bench, crowding Lambert’s space and nearly sitting on his lap. He gathered the smaller man in his arms. Lambert was stiff from the shock of it, but it soon changed, and he clutched at Eskel as well, panting thinly in his ear as they clung to one another.</p>
<p>The shuddering sobs stopped, but Lambert’s breath was still ragged. Eskel treasured the feeling of the stress-quick beats of the heart he felt through his own chest. </p>
<p>Unbidden, Eskel huffed a small laugh, and pressed a kiss to the side of Lambert’s head. “Unfair,” he muttered, “your love profession was a lot better than mine.”</p>
<p>Lambert jolted with a laugh of his own. It sounded relieved and joyful. Neither of them moved to let go, and held each other close as their nerves settled. Eskel looked across the yard and saw Geralt leaning against the stable, his expression soft and hopeful.</p>
<p>“Didn’t mean to upstage you,” Lambert said, voice muffled as he set his head on Eskel’s shoulder. </p>
<p>A gentle nudge to their side distracted the both of them. Frankly, Bertha had been very patient with the entire ordeal, but she had her limits. There were two sets of hands right there, and none of them were giving her a pet. </p>
<p>The nanny sniffed at Lambert’s hair and nipped his shirtsleeve. Lambert snorted, and reached out to scratch her ears.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Geralt works out so he can give better hugs. Also, these are like the only two people he would even dare to hug, and Lambert is a new addition to that list. </p>
<p>Hopefully their emotional bonding was believable. I know Lambert is soft in this but I tried to make it in character with the actual story developments as well.</p>
<p>Last part is (hopefully the last) in the works, but it will be longer and take a minute. Got a new FT job so writing time is cut into.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. A Tenuous Taming</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Geralt tries to help even more.<br/>Geralt’s awkward. Lambert’s neurotic. Eskel is honestly just happy to be here.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This one fought me so hard I don’t even know what ended up coming out. Also, if you read “Put Me Down” be aware that this is pretty much a ‘two cakes’ scenario. I already had this planned and then I got the Axii spin off idea and basically wrote the same scene twice. Don’t hate me. I have a voyeur fetish.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">Chapter Six: A Tenuous Taming</span>
  </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Things moved slowly in the first weeks of winter. There were tasks and repairs to be done, which distracted and exhausted the entire pack. They slept deep and turned in early. Normally, they would have a few nights of celebration at their reunion, but the enthusiasm of living through another year was muted and tinged with worry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vesemir and Lambert were in a strange dance. Their mentor was quiet and watchful of the youngest wolf, and he heaped food on Lambert’s plate every meal. He didn’t make less demands of Lambert when it came to work, but every request was made with a more tempered voice. Lambert responded with less ire than usual, and allowed the small pampering of extra food and the occasional dessert. He drank the tea and mulled cider pushed his way and grumbled a rare thank you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel admitted that Vesemir had been wracked with worry the year before, and learned that Lambert had lived much later than Eskel did. The old wolf spent half a year worried the last witcher of Kaer Morhen was dead in the wilds, so his attention made sense. Lambert didn’t allow Vesemir very close, but he did accept their momentary truce, and thrived under the extra care, gaining weight and muscle quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Theirs wasn’t the only dance, however. Geralt and Lambert had found a new rhythm- they spoke easier and lighter, joked and teased without wounding one another. As the first frosts came, everyone seemed to calm. Gwent games started, and drinks were shared. Some stories passed between them. Geralt felt as though everyone was beginning to settle. It was nice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least he thought it was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He began to doubt himself when Eskel pulled him into the armory one afternoon and buried his nose in Geralt’s neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” He asked, clasping his friend’s shoulders and holding him steady. He took a quick sniff of Eskel, and picked up the sour undercurrent of sadness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what to do,” Eskel mumbled against his skin. “I thought maybe we’d fall back into it, but this is a mess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt let the alpha take in his scent for another moment before moving them to a workbench across the room. He flicked an Igni at the nearby fireplace, relighting its coals for a small kiss of heat. Eskel leaned against him and gathered his thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lambert won’t touch me,” he said, staring out across the cluttered room. It was bleak and drafty, and seemed to suit the mood well. “It took three weeks to convince him to let me sleep in his room, but I’m doing all the work.” Eskel winced. “I thought he wanted to maybe be intimate last night- I mean I can smell him I’m not an idiot- but he…” Eskel’s voice dropped off, struggling. He wasn’t much of a kiss and tell- even less so than Geralt, but it was bothering him enough to speak. Eskel gave up and blurted; “he wanted me to shackle him!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt blinked a few times in surprise, but kept his expression under control. He didn’t really put reins on his mouth, however. “Did you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel balked at him. “Are you as crazy as he is? No I didn’t shackle and fuck him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a strange way, Geralt understood. He’d witnessed the continuous disgust and horror on Lambert’s end of the ordeal. The omega’s self-hatred was palpable and nearly manifested in his own death, and Lambert revered Eskel. It made sense he wouldn’t trust himself enough to not harm him again. Unfortunately, the request seemed to wound Eskel in another way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt tried his best to express that. “He thinks he’s going to hurt you, Eskel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The alpha growled in frustration. “He won’t,” Eskel snapped. “I’m not some spineless pushover. I will stop anything I don’t like- I’ve told him this. This isn’t the season. He’s in control, and I’m not a puppet to his damn pheromones.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt hummed, leaning into Eskel to ground him. “Makes him feel safer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel huffed. “It makes me feel disgusting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt had very little advice to give in this regard; he didn’t have many relationships that lasted longer than a few fucks. He wasn’t the best at figuring out what others needed, but he did have enough of a history to know a thing or two about quirks in bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bedded a lady who wanted to tie me up,” he said, shrugging. “She said it made her feel safer. I told her I could get out of the ropes easy, but that wasn’t what mattered to her. It made her feel comfortable, so I did it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shackles are a little different from some rope, Geralt,” Eskel said dryly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then tell him you’ll do rope, instead,” Geralt replied. “He can get out of it and you know it. It’s not real, it’s just a game. Might be a way to meet in the middle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel groaned, kneading the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know what I was expecting, asking you.” It wasn’t an insult, just factual. Geralt was good at a lot of things, but relationships were not exactly one of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry your boyfriend has issues?” Geralt tried again, struggling not to laugh at Eskel's exasperated look. “To be fair, he did nearly kill you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel snorted. “Takes more than that to kill me. I’ve been disemboweled, had my face torn off, broke a hip during a blizzard. That weak bite was bullshit.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt really did laugh at that. “Did you two flip your alignment when I wasn’t looking? You’re acting very omega.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel shoved him, and Geralt acted as if it hurt him. The alpha rolled his eyes, but let himself be pulled into a hug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s going to need time, Eskel,” Geralt mumbled, mouth pressed to his hair. “He was bad when I found him. He’s doing his best.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish you’d tell me,” Eskel complained. They had talked about this before: Geralt gave only the most vague details about Lambert’s capture and journey north. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not my story to tell,” he replied. If Lambert wanted to keep those details from Eskel, it was his decision. Some things weren’t worth revisiting. Geralt had plenty of dark corners of his life he didn’t want to look at again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, rope, huh?” Eskel sat up and shot Geralt a skeptical look. “I don’t like it, but it’s better than a pair of fucking shackles. I don’t even know where he got them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt shrugged. “Just a thought.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel blew a hard breath but seemed to accept that Geralt didn’t have much more to offer him. He stood up to leave, still fraught, but less tense. Geralt followed him out, shoving gently.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt was kept out of the ordeal for about four days, then Lambert came into Geralt’s room without so much as a knock or a hello. He shut the door behind him and wandered over to the extra chair by the fire, sitting across from Geralt with a huff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I help you?” Geralt asked, setting aside his book. It was late, well after dinner, and they had all retreated to their rooms. Geralt thought he wouldn’t be seeing any of his fellow Wolves until morning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Book out of his hands, Lambert tossed him a flask from his hip, which Geralt caught easily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got something to ask of you,” Lambert said, leaning back in the chair. He looked cocksure and calm, but Geralt could smell the tang of a nervous sweat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should I drink, first?” Geralt lifted the flask questioningly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, probably.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt took a long pull and regretted not sniffing the contents first. Lambert claimed his shine had various flavors added and aromatic notes, but either he was bullshitting or Geralt had his tastebuds burnt off from the alcohol content. Either way, he winced and swallowed, letting the heat bloom in his chest and belly, and motioned for Lambert to continue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, the rope thing was a failure,” Lambert said, perfectly blunt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt sputtered, and what was left of the alcohol in his mouth went up his nose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Points for effort, though.” Lambert tipped his head and struggled not to laugh at the stricken expression on Geralt’s face. “Eskel still felt bad about tying me up, and, well—” he paused and furrowed his brow, the confident air stuttering out of him. “I knew they couldn’t stop me from hurting him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, fuck. Geralt stuck his nose where it didn’t belong and he just proceeded in embarrassing everyone involved. “Sorry about that,” he muttered, drinking again. The burn was godsawful, but he really did need it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert seemed to bask in his discomfort for a moment, letting it ease his own. He always did take joy in Geralt’s chagrin, or really any emotion he could get out of the White Wolf. Lambert waited until Geralt got down the next few swallows of shine before he broke the flustered quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyway,” he said, abrupt and almost flippant, “you can make it up to me; I want you to help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt tilted his head. “With?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sex.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This span of quiet was tinged with disbelief. Geralt was slightly aware that he had his mouth hanging open, and closed it. Lambert took the small movement as a chance to continue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen,” the omega said, pushing an air of confidence that was directly in contrast to the bright red blush of his ears, “Eskel won’t allow shackles, but he will allow you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt still wasn’t following. “To what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The nervous tinge was sharpening again in Lambert’s scent, and his heart rate quickened with it. “You calm me down,” he explained. His gaze skittered off of Geralt, choosing the safety of looking at the fireplace instead. “That quelling of yours, that’s high quality stuff. Makes me mellow. And you’re strong, not soft on me like he is.” Lambert winced and sighed. “So, I need to ask a favor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt didn’t know what to do but take another pull from the flask. He motioned for Lambert to continue and shifted in his seat. His palms felt strangely damp. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you mind just… being there?” Lambert asked, voice so much softer than what Geralt was used to. It made his hair stand on end, to hear that gentle vulnerability. He must have looked alarmed, because the other wolf sputtered and continued. “I’m not asking you to fuck me,” he clarified. “You’re not some whore I am looking to hire- I just think, well, you were okay being close earlier, and I know you’ll keep me in check.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was about Eskel, not Geralt. Lambert was worried about Eskel.  He took a calming breath and turned over what he was being told. Lambert wanted Geralt there to quell him during intimacy- maybe even stay to make sure he wasn’t violent to his partner. It wasn’t that strange an ask; betas the continent over did this as a service to alpha/omega couples, -never approach a omega in heat without a beta, and all that. It was just that Geralt had never really considered doing it himself. And with his own brethren.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, Lambert wasn’t in season. It made no sense that he would be violent at all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not going to hurt Eskel,” Geralt said, scowling at the younger wolf. His fear was unfounded; they had a normal sex life before this, it made no sense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert shook his head, his lip pulling up in a small snarl. “But I can.” His hands clenched against his thighs. “I can and he would let me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt wasn’t so sure of that. Eskel could easily defend himself out of rut, even if he was naked and taken by surprise. He was about to say so when he picked up the sour smell of nervous fear tinging the air and sighed, resigned. It didn’t matter what he said; Lambert was fixated on that possibility, and if Geralt had learned something over that summer, it was that Lambert catastophised his own faults when it came to Eskel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt knew Lambert was touchy, he just hadn’t prepared himself for him also being sensitive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He really had sold the younger wolf short. </span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Look,” Lambert blurted into the silence, “just, maybe just try it once to see if the quelling helps?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt stared at him, at a loss. It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought of it- he’d had to when Joren died, when Geralt and Remus were the last two betas in Kaer Morhen that Lambert would let within ten feet of him. Joren had been Lambert’s heat partner since the pogrom, and with him gone, it was left to the remaining betas to handle their last feral omega. Geralt was willing to do his duty and assist, but Remus had stepped in, leaving Geralt to the comfortable position of calming Eskel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So certainly he had thought of it. Seeing Lambert in heat had put it in his mind, naturally- it wasn’t as if betas were immune to the scent entirely, but Lambert and Eskel had been dancing about one another and stupidly infatuated. Geralt knew to discard any passing attraction. It wasn’t as though he was the one wanted, here. He was there as a scent marker, a living incense. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want me to do?” he said, frustrated. “Hold your hands down to the bed while you’re getting fucked?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert sucked a quick breath and stared very intently over Geralt’s shoulder. A sharp note of spice pricked Geralt’s nose and he hastily pulled another mouthful of drink. Shit, well that was an idea. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean,” Lambert tried, his voice rough, “look, I know a beta can keep me calm.” He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to center himself. “Literally every bedpartner I’ve had was a beta. Eskel is the only alpha I have ever chanced it with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t matter, though. It wasn’t near the solstice. “Lambert, outside of your heat you are harmless.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The omega jolted in his chair, sitting rigid. “I don’t feel fucking harmless!” He snarled, fingers digging into his knees. He glared at Geralt. “You like me to be direct with you, yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” That was ideal. Geralt wasn’t a fan of talking around the issue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert’s expression was serious. “I’m frightened of hurting him,” he admitted, “even if it’s irrational. It’s not going to go away soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And me being there will make you feel safer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The omega nodded. “You will keep him safe.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. Geralt would not allow Eskel to come to harm, especially at Lambert’s hands. He could and would be able to defend his closest friend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will,” Geralt agreed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So would you?” Lambert slumped back into the chair. “I’m not asking you to fuck me,” he muttered. “You don’t even have to look at me. Just be there and keep him safe.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt frowned. Why would Geralt have a problem looking at him? Had he given Lambert the idea he was disgusted with him? That he found it repulsive? He was only surprised at the request, not horrified. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s important,” Lambert continued. His ears were rosy with embarrassment. Geralt would have found it charming if he wasn’t unsettled by Lambert’s tone. “I don’t have much to offer him, you know? And this might be a way to get it back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt really didn’t know. Sure, Eskel missed the intimacy, but that didn’t mean that was all Lambert had to give him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn,” Lambert said, scrutinizing Geralt’s face. “You look more disturbed than when I asked you to kill me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The joking tone turned sour, and Geralt shook his head. “I want to help,” he said, truthful. “I just don’t like how you’re looking at yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The omega screwed up his lip and turned away. His posture tightened into something defensive. “I’m not asking you to fix me. I know I’m beyond repair.” His tone sounded similar to that fall: defeated and defensive. Geralt hated it. “I just need you to keep him safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to keep them both safe. He wanted them to be happy. Geralt didn’t know if this would do anything but cause another complication, just put an inefficient bandage on a large, complex wound. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, it was something he could do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” he muttered, tossing the flask back into Lambert’s lap. “If you think it will work, I’ll keep you calm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The smaller wolf nodded and stood up. “Alright,” he said, as if they were agreeing on splitting chores. Lambert left without so much as a goodbye, closing the door firmly behind him in his haste.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt stayed in his chair for a good while longer, trying to contemplate how he could face this new situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He went to bed with few solutions. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>He chased down Eskel the next morning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” Eskel said, allowing Geralt to herd him into a private room, “So he asked. I didn’t know if he would.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt struggled to keep his incredulity from his face. “Are you okay with it?” Eskel was a private man, and although Geralt knew he wasn’t tame by any standards- they’d had a wild youth together, afterall, he was still having trouble believing this was a group decision. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay with this?” Eskel asked, looking Geralt over. “You smell nervous, which isn’t normal for you.” The alpha leaned in and bumped their heads together. It calmed the strange tension that had been running through Geralt since the night before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll tell me if I overstep?” Geralt asked.  Eskel was always good at letting Geralt know when he’d gone too far, been too rude or harsh. The lines were hard for Geralt to see, but Eskel had always been a gentle correction for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I will.” Eskel’s huge, warm hand rested on the side of Geralt’s neck, and Geralt basked in the contact. Eskel was always so sturdy, even when he was a wreck. Geralt may have been a beta, but the calming nature of his subsex mattered little when it came to settling himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His pulse slowed and evened, and Geralt hummed his agreement. “Alright. We can try it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel’s smile, now crooked from his scars, was still a thing Geralt treasured. The alpha closed the space between them and held Geralt in a long hug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it turns out to be weird, we can just laugh about it later,” Eskel said, a chuckle already teasing his voice. “It’s about as awkward as that time you blew Gweld in the library and Vesemir and Remus came in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt scowled and playfully shoved at Eskel. “He was in heat, naked and trying to attack Bowen. It calmed him down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m sure,” Eskel said, eyes crinkled in mirth, “and the fact you kept blowing each other for a few years after that outside of the season was just maintaining the peace.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I seem to remember you benefiting from that agreement,” Geralt muttered. His affair with Gweld culminated in a few friendly group sessions over the year, and Eskel had been happy to partake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that was fun,” he said, looking thoughtful. “He was wearing you out, I was only helping.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt snorted and allowed Eskel to ruffle his hair before they parted. It would be fine. It was just like the old days with a keep full of witchers. He was a beta brother, and this was his duty. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt really didn’t know when to expect his invitation. Things carried on as usual; they dealt with the first major snowstorm, blasted the walkways with enough fire to exhaust even Eskel, and did their best to not be too tense around each other. It was mainly Lambert and Geralt who were awkward, the omega being unusually quiet and furtive, and spending more time in his still than average. Eskel said it was just how he got, sometimes, and Geralt trusted his judgement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last thing Geralt expected was for him to invite himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kaer Morhen was vast and empty, yet strangely without a lot of private spaces outside of bed chambers. The main hall had a clear eyeline across it. The kitchen was cluttered, and heavily used. The armory had a terrible draft and was unwelcoming for liaisons, and the library door was warped and didn’t shut right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt was blaming the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d heard Eskel’s low baritone and Lambert’s staccatoed tenor echoing in the library, and Geralt meant to just pass by, when the voices suddenly stopped and there was the clatter of a book hitting the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was rare to spy on another witcher, but in their defense, they were distracted. Geralt glanced through the gap and saw Lambert perched on a table, wrapping himself about Eskel, who was standing between his knees. Geralt felt relief that at least they had that closeness. He’d worried the pair were avoiding one another entirely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They seemed perfectly fine, leisurely kissing and petting one another. He couldn’t catch the scent of them from this distance, but their heartbeats were normal for their activities. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt began to feel slightly creepy, watching them through the crack in the door. Still, it looked nice, to be wrapped up in someone like they were in one another. Eskel’s hands found their way under Lambert’s wool shirt, and Lambert was groaning happily in response. Geralt hadn’t exactly heard that noise before, and it wasn’t an unpleasant one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was this what he was expected to endure, except even more up close and personal? Geralt would help if he could- but it would be a bit strange for him to sit right next to them as they fucked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His thoughts were derailed when Lambert suddenly moved, pushing himself away from Eskel and off the table. He looked riled, his eyes wide and mouth kissed red, but his heart had a more nervous cadence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel sighed and stepped back, giving the smaller man more room. “It’s okay, Lam. You’re alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert winced. A sweat was breaking out on his brow. He looked like a man who had been caught stealing, not someone who was just moaning into a kiss. “I gotta go,” he muttered, making for the door. “Sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel didn’t move to follow and Geralt barely had time to step out of the way as Lambert left the library at a run. The door cracked off of the wall with the force it was pushed open, and Lambert dashed out, ignoring Geralt entirely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The smell of stress and anger spurred Geralt into action. “Lambert!” He shouted, entirely too loud in the hallway. The force of it seemed to make the other man falter, and Lambert whipped around to stare at him. Geralt pulled up the sleeve of his shirt and offered his wrist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The standoff was brief, and Lambert caved at the opportunity. He nearly took Geralt off of his feet as he crashed into him, bypassing Geralt’s wrist altogether and going for his neck, where the scent was strongest. He pulled breaths like a drowning man, drinking up the quelling like it would save him. Geralt stood still, and let Lambert take what he needed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It worked alarmingly fast. The frantic mood was calmed, and Lambert stopped trying to crush himself against Geralt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he pulled back, he almost looked normal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay?” Geralt asked, straightening his shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert let his bravado battle his embarrassment. The result was his shoulders being straight and proud, while his ears being fantastically flushed. “Yeah,” he said, “I’m fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was ridiculous. Geralt didn’t like the ongoing tension. Direct paths were the best. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you two doing tonight?” He asked, knowing Eskel was listening from inside the library. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothin’” Lambert grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. Geralt tried not to laugh at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you like company?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know why he was inviting himself to something he was so unsure of, but there it was. Regardless of his reservations, this was something he could at least try to help with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert’s fingers drummed on his biceps as he paused to think about it. He glanced towards Eskel, still inside the room, who gave a shrug. “Okay,” Lambert said, pointedly looking away from the both of them. “My room, tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He left it at that, and fled again, this time nervous for another reason entirely. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt didn’t know how to dress for this sort of thing. What did one wear when being the scent-support for a couple? He’d decided on a plain loose shirt and slacks, casual and comfortable. He knew Lambert’s room would be sweltering hot- the little wolf tried to cook himself in his room with how big he built the fire- so Geralt didn’t bother bundling up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wash of heat confirmed his prediction as he stepped in the room. Lambert had decided on a smaller room than he and Eskel, and he insulated it well. Geralt was pretty sure his window was sealed shut. It was probably the warmest room in the keep, seconded only by the moonshine still in full boil.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt huffed as he acclimated, shutting the door behind him. The heat only accentuated the strange mix of smells inside. Lambert stank of nerves and excitement, but Eskel was a cautious mix of arousal and contentment. Geralt wasn’t sure his quelling would even be detectable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stood in a strange triangle, Lambert vibrating with energy, Geralt still by the door and Eskel blinking up at them from where he’d perched on the top of a chest. Geralt tossed around his head for something to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thank the gods for Lambert’s mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fucking hell. Alright, so since this was my dumbass idea I guess I need to get this started, huh?” He said, voice edging towards the strangled quality it made when he was riled. “First thing first, sorry if it’s fucking weird,” he announced, gesturing to the situation at large, “but I don’t know what else to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt shrugged. “Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert stared at him. “You’re so fucking strange,” he muttered, with no ire whatsoever. Geralt was beginning to realize the small, supposed insults were not meant to wound him. It was just commentary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good thing he is so strange, otherwise we would be out of luck,” Eskel added, a smile on his face. Geralt rolled his eyes at him, but Lambert snorted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bunch of fucking weird bastards, here- good company, I guess.” Lambert sat on his bed. The furs and blankets had been unceremoniously shoved off on the floor, reminding Geralt why he was there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t we start this easy, hm?” Eskel said, pushing the chest a little closer so it was at the corner of the bed. “Geralt, Lam- just sit next to each other for a minute.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt did as he was told, sitting close like he did when a brother was agitated and needed a beta nearby. Lambert leaned in like he was a magnet, bumping their shoulders and then shifting to sniff at him. He was strangely polite about it- not going for the neck like he did that morning, but smelling at his skin and hair without touching. Geralt hummed encouragingly as he felt the man next to him lose some of his tension. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t understand,” Lambert complained, “why is this so efficient?” He sighed in pleasure. “I worked on that oil for years, and this is still so much better.” He poked at Geralt’s shoulder, playful. “Should have figured you’d upstage me by just sitting there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a time when Geralt would have taken offense to that, but he now knew that the crinkle at the corner of his eyes meant Lambert was teasing him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever it takes to get you off, Lambert,” Geralt said dryly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert’s loud cackle broke up some of the tension, and Eskel chuckled as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d like to do just that, thanks,” Eskel said, reaching out to cup Lambert’s jaw. The smaller wolf stopped laughing and leaned into the touch. He still smelled nervous, but it was nowhere near the stink that it had been. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll try not to disappoint,” he mumbled. “Probably going to go off like a virgin though- haven’t exactly been visiting brothels this last year.” His tone held the edge of a jest, but it was too miserable to be anything but the truth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel shrugged. “Me either,” he said, unconcerned. “At least we will make Geralt’s torture all that much shorter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt rolled his eyes and stood up, moving from the bed to the chest Eskel vacated, giving them room. Sure, it was a bit awkward and he didn’t know what to do to help, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to be there. He was unbothered by the idea of seeing Eskel have sex- hell he had seen it before. They’d shared a few interesting drunken nights with Gweld getting enthusiastically passed between them; it wasn’t unusual when the keep was full. Eskel would have to try very hard to make Geralt feel uncomfortable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert was the wild card. He hadn’t been involved in anything pre-pogrom, and life after the sacking was very different. Pack life had changed for the wolves, and things like this weren’t usual anymore. Also, he and Geralt were finally in some sort of semi-amiable relationship after decades at odds. Those sort of things were fragile when you carried as much volatile emotion around as Lambert did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel seemed to be fed up with the slow progress of their evening, and dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, okay,” Lambert sputtered, letting the larger man pull at the laces of his trousers and slide them down his legs. Geralt tried to politely look somewhere around Lambert’s shoulder as Eskel dipped down to get his mouth on him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel went about it like a man on a mission, noisily licking and sucking at his prize, and Lambert’s hands flew to his hair, threading them between his fingers. It was nearly long enough to tie up, and gave the omega something nice to grab on to as he was devoured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, Geralt looking at Lambert’s shoulder meant his face was very much in his periphery. Lambert had his eyes squeezed shut, but his brows were raised and mouth open and panting. It was a surprisingly soft look for him, gentling his more harsh features. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel groaned happily from between his partner’s knees, as if he were the one with a hot mouth on his prick. Lambert responded with a soft murmur of praise. Geralt blinked frantically and bit the inside of his cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He really didn’t need to be staring at them: everything seemed fine. Geralt turned his head away a little to give them some privacy, and tried very hard not to fixate too much on the surprisingly sweet noises Lambert made when Eskel began to bob his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘S good, Kelly,” he said breathily. Geralt hadn’t heard that endearment before that winter, and noticed how Eskel rumbled happily at it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert shimmied his hips and tugged gently at Eskel’s hair. “Hey, come ‘ere.” Eskel was reluctant to release his prize, and Lambert whined. “Want a kiss, come here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The request had Eskel surging up, obviously hungry for the offer. They tumbled back against the mattress with a grunt, quieting one another with their lips. Lambert pulled at Eskel’s shirt, and the bigger man shrugged out of it, barely breaking from the kiss to get it over his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wet noises of their kissing only stopped when Eskel had crawled entirely up onto the bed, covering Lambert completely. “What do you want to do?” He asked, voice a low rumble. He was nearly alight with happiness and calm, obviously pleased with their progress. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert’s fingers massaged at his back and shoulders, unable to keep still against the expanse of skin above him. “You know what I want,” he said. He sounded embarrassed, but determined- speaking in the quiet, muttered way he did when sullen. Eskel rumbled a laugh and dipped down again, kissing him thoroughly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay Lam,” Eskel purred when he’d finished feasting on the man under him, “We’ve got to get these off then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two pairs of trousers and underclothes were tossed off the bed, one set of braies landing over Geralt’s foot. He shook it off, and wondered who was the one walking about the keep in fancy, ruby red underthings. Certainly no one would bring their nice garments with them on the Path, so one of them must have had a stache of nicer braies for winter lounging. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt was drawn away from his musing as there was considerable shifting on the bed next to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just, gotta have our heads down by Geralt,” Lambert said, shuffling down so that they were within arm’s reach. “Don’t want to leave him staring at my ass.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel growled and crawled over him, smiling. “Yeah, I’ve been doing enough of that for the both of us.” Geralt expected to hear a laugh from Lambert, but was left surprised at the small, muffled apology he heard muttered into Eskel’s skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Lambert said, clutching at the man above him. “Been a pain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel hummed and nuzzled in, laying warm kisses against Lambert’s neck  and shoulder. “Lam, it’s fine. Love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert sputtered, embarrassed and Geralt thinned his lips to prevent a smile. It was surprisingly cute, these two together. He hadn’t been looking too closely, as it hadn’t been his business, but it was hard to ignore it now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The speed of things changed at Eskel’s insistence. He pulled away to grab the tin of slick off the side table and pounced playfully back down on his prey, finally startling a laugh out of Lambert. Geralt made sure to turn even further away, and tried to focus. He needed to pay attention to only one thing: Lambert’s mood. He could pick that up easily through scent or tone, so he needed to focus in on that and give them privacy everywhere else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sensed a shift on the bed, a leg getting drawn up and fingers being swiped through the greasy ointment, the mellowing scent of lanolin as it warmed against skin. Geralt heard nothing but the soft sounds of kissing, but then Lambert’s breath stuttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hitch of breath was followed by the quickening of Lambert’s heart, the pace edging from aroused to nervous. Geralt could smell the faintest sour hint of adrenaline coming through the thick, complex  aroma in the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pretty boy,” Lambert called, “hand?” The omega’s tone was trying for flippant, but it fell short. Geralt heard the genuine request underneath, and turned towards them, letting Lambert take his hand and pull it in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried not to let his gaze be pulled with it, but his peripheral was too sharp. Lambert was on his side, his leg hitched high with Eskel over him, mouthing reassuring kisses to his neck and shoulders as his larger hands worked away. Lambert had his face turned to Geralt, and held his hand against his cheek, pulling deep breaths against his skin. Geralt felt the tips of his fingers rasp against Lambert’s beard as he sighed in relief. His heart immediately began to slow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Good, good. That was what they wanted. That was what quelling was for. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was Geralt’s turn to be startled, however, when the calm, deep breaths against his hand stuttered into a surprised moan. Eskel echoed the sentiment encouragingly and Geralt didn’t have the sense not to directly look. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The renewed calm seemed to be a great moment for Eskel to slick up his fingers and slide them into Lambert. He whispered soft encouragement against the other man’s skin as he worked. The action itself wasn’t visible, but it wasn’t hard to figure out with the hitched breaths coming from Lambert. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt took his hand back and shifted away, clutching hard at his knees. He stared off across the room and tried to temper his own breathing. He wanted to try to slip into meditation, but there was no way with what was going on next to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel’s sweet nothings were interrupted when he dipped down for a kiss, and Geralt was surprised how readily Lambert lapped up the affection. He didn’t expect someone like Lambert to want that sweetness, but it wasn’t his relationship. He was a stranger, here. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The very awkward, desperately struggling to contain his arousal, stranger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt did his best to focus on scent instead of sound, but the more subtle scents of emotional reactions and stress were getting drowned out by the musky salt of precum and sweat. Trying not to hear was nearly useless: even though Geralt was sure Lambert was trying to be restrained, Eskel had no such compulsions. He murmured a nonstop stream of encouragement between kisses, and the longer they writhed together on the bed, the more explicit they got. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hold on, Lam, not yet,” Eskel said, stopping Lambert from trying to surge up against him. “You’re real tight still. No way I’m not going to hurt you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth at the image that summoned. In their past escapades, Gweld had to take Eskel second- always joking that taking that monster on without warmup was beyond foolish, even for a witcher. Apparently, Lambert didn’t have such fears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Give me more, come on,” he complained. Geralt heard them shift again and Eskel sighed and fiddled with the tin of slick. Lambert huffed in irritation. “It’s been a while without your cock, Eskel, not a while without anything at all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel laughed, a low and happy thing. “Ah, making use of your carving skills?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, they were talking about the cock Lambert whittled. Geralt’s brain helpfully supplied him with the memory of seeing the aforementioned dildo two winters back, when he checked in on Lambert during his heat. It had been well-used then, too. Fuck. Now that image was refreshed in his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll go get it if you don’t hurry up,” Lambert snarked. Apparently the quelling killed off the nervous energy enough to get the bitchy part of his personality back. Eskel was more than pleased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t complain about that, either,” he said. Eskel nipped at Lambert’s shoulders and scooped more slick. Geralt heard the wet, obscene noise of lubricated fingers sliding into the tight clench of a body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, fuck…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There you go,” Eskel rumbled. “There’s three.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt swallowed and very pointedly ignored the throb of his own cock, trapped against his thigh. He figured he wouldn't be able to keep his own arousal at bay, but he couldn’t let it distract him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At his back, Lambert keened and gasped, increasingly excited. “Ready now,” he said, rocking back onto the press of fingers inside of him. “Come on, turn me around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel growled excitedly and complied, flipping Lambert over with ease. The bed shook behind Geralt at the force of impact, and Lambert laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fucking brute,” he teased. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel grumbled and kissed at what skin he could reach as they arranged themselves. “You complaining?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No way. Fuck me, come on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt couldn’t see what exactly was happening, but he didn’t need to- Lambert’s moans told him everything. They were loud for only a moment, then muffled against the bedding. His fingers scratched at the mattress.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel’s soothing voice hushed him. “Okay, that’s too fast. Let’s slow down, love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on,” Lambert pleaded, his voice edging in nerves. He shifted again, and Eskel groaned. “I’m just tight, come on.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They moved again, together. Lambert groaned and inside the noise of pleasure, there was a surge of panic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright, Lam,” Eskel said, stilling completely. “You’re okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert’s whimper ended in a snarl. “Yeah, just, fuck, wait…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt didn’t need to get told a second time. He turned quickly to find Lambert looking at him. He’d slid down onto his belly, and Eskel hovered over him, kissing his shoulders reassuringly. The scent of panic soured the warm smell of sex and affection that permitted the room.  Lambert’s eyes were wide and wild, an eerily familiar look that he had seen many times that summer. Geralt leaned over the bed, stretching out and cupping the omega’s cheek. Lambert turned to his scent and breathed deep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re okay,” Geralt said. His thumb brushed the soft skin under Lambert’s eye. He watched the omega's pupils dilate as the quelling worked. “You’re not going to hurt anyone. Stop working yourself up, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert’s whole body loosened and he melted into the bed, sighing as his heart slowed. “Yeah,” he whispered, blinking muzzly from the quelling’s effects, “I’m okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt nodded at him, trying hard not to notice the way Lambert rocked his hips back against Eskel’s. He pulled his hand back, trying to give them privacy, but Lambert had him tightly by the wrist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to do anything more,” he said. “You don’t even have to look at me—” there was that again, that idea that Geralt would find it disgusting, not that he was trying to be polite. Lambert frowned at him. “Just stay, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stay, as in stay close, stay within my reach. Keep me in check. Geralt nodded and let Lambert pull his hand back, let him nuzzle into Geralt’s palm. Eskel groaned as Lambert moved under him, encouraging him to continue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt was half sprawled over the bed, feeling it move as Eskel began to fuck into Lambert. He tried not to look directly, but it barely made a difference, because instead he was looking at Lambert’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The young wolf had severe features, there was no doubt about that- his brows were angled sharply and his nose was pronounced, but it wasn’t a bad face. Lambert’s issue was the dour expression he wore around in daily life. When he smiled or laughed or was sly, even when he pouted, he was handsome. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right now, however, the face Geralt was cradling in his hand was a little more than that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert looked soft. He was blissed out and flushed, quelled and also gorgeously aroused. His cheek was hot against Geralt’s skin, and his eyelashes, dark and surprisingly long, brushed against Geralt’s thumb. His eyes were heavily lidded, and the pupils under them were blown wide. They caught Geralt’s own and the wet, panting breaths against the skin of Geralt’s wrists stuttered into a long, low moan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The vibration made Geralt shiver, and he pressed the heel of his other hand to his groin. This was not going the way he needed it to. Geralt closed his eyes, afraid he would embarrass himself by ruining his own trousers. He was sweating like he was the one doing the fucking, instead of laying there, being used as a smelling salt. He needed to calm down. He had to get himself under control. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh—” Lambert’s grip on his arm became punishing and Eskel hummed encouragingly. The bed shook harder as their pace quickened and Geralt desperately tried to list types of vampires according to rarity in his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, they were right about their longevity, and by the time Geralt reached higher vampires they’d both collapsed onto the bed. Unfortunately, the motion wafted a potent burst of air into Geralt’s face, and the smell of sweat, satisfaction and spend hit him like a slap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert’s grip had loosened after his orgasm, so Geralt found it easy to pull away. He almost escaped before Eskel reached out and grabbed him, pulling Geralt in with a gentle hand. The bigger wolf sat up enough to plant a kiss on Geralt’s forehead, an old affection they passed back and forth from time to time. This was a definite thank you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He retreated again, trying to turn away so that his prominent erection wasn’t pointing at them. Eskel flopped back onto the bed, smiling dopiley and Lambert immediately shuffled into his arms, snuggling in like it was natural for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m leaving,” Geralt announced, feeling awkward. “Goodnight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Night, Geralt,” Eskel rumbled, as if they were just retiring after a round of cards. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt made for the door like the room was on fire, but he wasn’t fast enough to not hear the last little bit of intimacy between the pair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you,” Eskel said, open and clear and warmly against Lambert’s skin. Lambert’s response was smaller, low and buried into Eskel’s chest, quiet as if it was a secret. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Love you, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt clicked the door shut behind him, and fled to his room. His cock ached, and his skin felt like he was on fire. He needed isolation, and the immediate relief of his own hand.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt didn’t exactly avoid his brothers the next day, but he also made sure to take the solo tasks and eat his meals early. The avoidance only worked until the afternoon, when Eskel managed to corner him in the larder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew it was immature to try to dodge the bigger man, but alarming Eskel by trying to escape him was better than humiliating himself with a conversation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No you don’t,” Eskel scoffed, scooping Geralt about the shoulders as he tried to squeeze past, pulling him in. “Come here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt growled inefficiently and let Eskel give him a squeeze. He already felt the warmth of embarrassment on the back of his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel sighed and bumped his forehead against Geralt. “I’m sorry if last night was too awkward for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The south wall in the larder was cracking. Geralt knew because he was staring at it very hard. “That’s not it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel’s grip loosened, but didn’t release. “Was it the fact you liked it?” Of course Eskel noticed Geralt’s affliction. The man wasn’t blind, and he knew Geralt better than anyone else on the Continent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not my place,” he muttered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel snorted and shook Geralt lightly by the shoulders. A smile pulled at his scar, showing his teeth through the notch in his upper lip. “It's okay that you liked it,” Eskel said. “You used to like to watch Gweld and I whenever we played around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt shrugged the thick arm off to get some space, but didn’t flee. “This isn’t playing around,” he said, crossing his arms. This wasn’t some tryst in the cold keep to entertain themselves, and something casual and half-drunk in a shadowed corner. He saw well enough what this was. Geralt saw enough to know it was different. “You love each other. That’s different.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel sat casually on top of an old barrel, still so relaxed- a contrast to Geralt’s tension. He was always such a mellow man in everyday life. It was a mystery why he wasn’t a beta, himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” the alpha relented, “it is different. It’s more intense, extremely messy and a hell of a lot better. I have you to thank for holding it together.” His smile reached his eyes, so warm in the low light. Eskel’s happiness was a tangible thing, infecting Geralt even in his brooding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt the weight of his worry lift. “It doesn’t bother you?” It was more of a statement than a question. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Eskel asked. “That you thought it was hot? It doesn’t.” He gestured vaguely to Geralt. “You and Lambert have a much closer relationship now, and I love that. It’s about fucking time.” He cast the beta a scolding look. “You two can finally talk without throwing barbs, and Lambert feels like you actually care about him, now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt knew his small wince was noticed. He still had a lot to clean up with the youngest wolf, but they were better than they had ever been. There were things about Lambert he liked- there always had been- they were just easier to see, now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The less animosity, the better,” Eskel said. “If it’s replaced by horniness, I am beyond pleased.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt snorted. How very Eskel. He always liked when things moved smoothly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does it bother you?” The alpha asked, flipping the question around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was a fair point. On one level, it did. Geralt didn’t like being surprised by things, least of all things about himself. Introspection was for scholars and the pious, and figuring his own feelings out was a strange and unwelcome battle. He’d just adjusted to thinking of Lambert as his friend, not just a pack mate. Now he was facing the knowledge he was also sexually interested, and it had him on the wrong foot. Before, it was just a passing thought- nothing to focus on or think about. Now, it was very much a real thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The biggest problem, however, was that he was intruding where he didn’t belong. He was encroaching on a relationship he had no business interrupting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Geralt said, refusing to admit the rest. Eskel would know, anyway. He always did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The alpha shook his head. “Geralt, did I seem uncomfortable?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He really didn’t. He hadn’t last night, and he wasn’t now. Eskel wasn’t jealous or territorial or even embarrassed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you’re not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel nodded, getting to his feet. “The only thing I am is thankful and in your debt.” He knocked their foreheads together, this time slower and with a tight hold on Geralt’s shoulders. “You brought him back, you fixed him up and made him sane again- for that, we both owe you. This extra shit, that’s just more debt in your name.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt frowned, disliking the idea. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did it because you deserve happiness, Eskel,” he said, annoyed. Eskel was a good man. A kind soul. He would have been a protector and a leader in his tribe, had destiny not dealt him an unkind hand. “You owe nothing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel pressed a kiss to Geralt’s brow. “You’re part of that happiness, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t have anything to say to that, and leaned into the embrace, instead. The warmth and love that emanated from the other man was a treasure, and Geralt would do anything to keep him safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, the days were growing shorter, and the other aspect to this equation was a much more volatile agent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt hummed in contemplation, and rolled an idea about in his head.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I split the last chapter because it’s enormous. This was the first bit. Now get ready for a shitload of porn and shifting relationship dynamics. </p><p>I bet during this whole thing Vesemir is just incredibly thankful he’s gone through beta menopause. Fucking mess.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Burning in the Longest Night (Part 1)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Geralt bridges a gap, Lambert is a hot mess and Eskel just really wants to be of use.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the delay. I got this last chapter to 18k before I decided to split it into two parts. There is a LOT of sex, guys. I mean, it’s an A/B/O what did we expect?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><h4>
<span class="u">Chapter Seven:</span><span class="u"> Burning in the Longest Night (Part 1)</span>
</h4><p>While their strange bedroom experiment seemed to work, and Geralt relaxed about his own reaction, Lambert didn’t approach Geralt again about a repeat. Things seemed settled between he and Eskel, but Geralt was fairly sure they hadn’t tried to replicate the affair on their own.</p><p>“Little steps are better than none,” Eskel admitted one night, just after Lambert wandered off to bed. The omega had stopped and given Eskel a lingering kiss, but still waved him off when Eskel asked him to stay for the night. “He almost let me blow him the other day.”</p><p>“Almost?” Geralt was slouching in his chair, drunk enough to be loose-limbed and openly curious.</p><p>“Yeah, it was nice.” The wistful tone to Eskel’s voice made it sound like he had been allowed a dance with a fine lady, not gotten to suck cock. “Nearly got him to completion before he made himself anxious and kicked me off. Going to have to work on my speed.”</p><p>Geralt didn’t have a response to that, but he lifted his mug in cheers, nonetheless. </p><p>Progress was progress, and Eskel was nothing if not patient. The damn man had pined for years without even making the slightest move. He could handle a cautiously slow sex life. </p><p>At least he had a sex life.</p><p>Geralt had spent his entire year obsessing over his brothers’ wellbeing, and the winter before he was holed up in a cellar, wounded. He hadn’t visited a brothel in ages, and the only companion he’d been enjoying was his own hand. If Eskel thought his sex life was lacking, at least he wasn’t jerking off to the memory of watching his best friend fuck his other friend. </p><p>Thank the gods he wasn’t drunk enough to say it, though. That was his own little sin. Eskel knew enough as it was.</p><p>So, progress was being made and the pack seemed calm. It was good. Settled.</p><p>Until, of course, the solstice approached.</p><p>Geralt had always been hyper aware of the season, what with being able to smell the changes in the men around him and with his own natural urges. He had been attuned to Eskel’s smell since childhood, so even the slightest hint of a rut had Geralt’s hair on end. Thankfully, alphas didn’t rut unless they were in recent contact with omegas- it was omegas that set everything off.</p><p>Lambert had never been Geralt’s responsibility to watch. That job was given to Joren, and then years later to Remus. As the days shortened the betas would trail behind him, checking in- often to Lambert’s great irritation. Betas didn’t go stupid like an alpha did when they scented preheat, but they did notice it. Lambert was known for leading an animositous chase about the keep, and his beta shadows became skilled at dodging a dagger.</p><p>Geralt didn’t mean to start following Lambert around, but as the solstice neared, the omega began to disappear for longer periods of time. When he was present he was distant and quick-footed, and  he began to avoid Eskel altogether, which naturally stressed the alpha out.</p><p>“I know he needs distance from me for his own sanity, but it seems excessive,” Eskel muttered at breakfast. Lambert had already been in and out of the kitchen earlier that morning, missing even Vesemir, who was normally the first up.</p><p>“The boy is full of energy and wants you safe. Try not to take it personal,” Vesemir said. Eskel sighed into his morning tea.</p><p>Geralt wanted to blame his worry for Eskel on his stalking Lambert, but that wasn’t all of it. He was also genuinely worried. Lambert’s last heat had been traumatic, and the omega wasn’t allowing any support as his next approached. </p><p>So, Geralt trailed after him- following the other witcher into the less-used areas of the keep, tracking him on his strange patrols outside. Lambert allowed it for a day before he ambushed Geralt in one of the old, half-collapsed storage rooms.</p><p>“Gods, what the fuck do you want, pretty boy?” He snarled, leaning into Geralt’s space. He smelled stressed and aggravated, but there were no hints of preheat on him.</p><p>“Checking on you,” Geralt replied, relaxed against Lambert’s aggression. It was all fake, a show to get Geralt to back down. Now that he knew Lambert’s tells, it was getting easy for him to translate.</p><p>“I’m fine,” he snapped, backing away when he saw Geralt fail to flinch. “Just a few days from going mad and trying to kill my boyfriend, you know- regular shit.”</p><p>Geralt wanted to refute him, but he knew it wouldn’t help.  Lambert was a pessimist, and he didn’t have faith in himself. Not yet.</p><p>“What are you planning to do for your heat?” Geralt asked. He’d seen Lambert go out to the watchtower once already, maybe he was planning to have a stay there.</p><p>“Trying to figure that out,” Lambert said, running a hand through his hair and making it wild. “I don’t know if it's because the lack of decoction or what, but I’m buzzing with fucking energy this year. I just- I need to find a place to hole up.”</p><p>Geralt tilted his head and made a gesture to his neck. Lambert seemed to fight with himself for only a moment, and ended up with his nose pressed to the swath of skin, scenting him deeply.</p><p>The tension bled out of him so fast Geralt worried he would need to hold the other witcher up. Lambert slumped and sighed. When he backed away he looked nearly normal.</p><p>“Fuck, thanks,” he muttered. “I’ve been so amped I haven’t made a new batch of oil.” He grimaced at himself. It looked like he hadn’t changed his shirt in a while. </p><p>Geralt shrugged. “I can help if you want some more. Vesemir has plenty of supplies- he’s been growing the ingredients for years.” Lambert nodded, but looked like he was already thinking about something else, his eyes darting about the ruined room. It was depressingly cold.</p><p>“So,” Geralt tried, “you want to hole up somewhere? Watchtower?”</p><p>“Probably, but the fucking roof repairs are failing and its drafty as fuck. I’m trying to find alternatives.”</p><p>The watchtower had only been a temporary solution. It was too far gone to be a habitable space, and the other alternative, the Bastion, had nothing that could be called a roof. The only solution was that Lambert was going to have to find a space within the keep, and if that were the case, Eskel was going to sense him. </p><p>Geralt was here, this year, and his quelling was potent. There was a solution no one had proposed that Geralt was fairly sure would work. </p><p>He’d been thinking it over for days.</p><p>“How about my room?” He asked.</p><p>Lambert balked at him, alarmed into focusing on Geralt again.“What? Are you stupid? I can’t have my heat in there.”</p><p>“We know my quelling works well on you, and my room is filled with my smell, so we can use that,” Geralt said. “I can stay and help. Things won’t escalate with me there.”</p><p>Lambert curled his lip in annoyance. “My fucking savior,” he groused. The ire bled out of him immediately as he caught on to what else Geralt was saying. “Wait, so you’d stay with me my whole heat?”</p><p>Geralt nodded and watched the cogs turn in Lambert’s head. The omega’s eyes widened marginally.</p><p>“Like you and me?” He asked, incredulous. There was an undercurrent of embarrassment there Geralt was just beginning to recognize, and he savored it. It was alarmingly charming.</p><p>His burgeoning infatuation was something to address later. Now, Geralt needed to clarify. He held up two fingers, then slowly raised a third.</p><p>Lambert balked, mouth open like a fish. When he finally got a noise out, it was indignant. “Are you insane? You want Eskel to be there? Eskel is to be nowhere near me during this!”</p><p>The omega’s scent plummeted into a worrying stink. Geralt tried to sound as sober and confident as possible. “You mellow out with me around. There’s no way you can hurt him with me there, Lambert. You won’t. It’s not going to happen again. I’m not going to let it.”</p><p>Lambert shifted from foot to foot, restless. He scrunched his nose as he thought it over. Geralt had difficulty parsing out the range of expressions that passed over Lambert’s face, but was able to recognize the one it landed on. </p><p>The faint blush at the tops of his ears always sold him out. </p><p>“You know I’m going to want you to fuck me, right?” He blurted, almost too-loud for the room around them. “If you’re there in my heat- even if Eskel was there- that quelling shit doesn’t make me less horny and needy.”</p><p>Geralt tried not to laugh. “Yes, and?”</p><p>“And?” He said, his voice barely containing a slight squeak. “You’re alright with that?”</p><p>Geralt tilted his head. Did Lambert really fail to smell him at all in their last liaison? He’d been so hard it was painful. Eskel noticed, plain as day. Then again, Lambert thought Geralt wouldn’t even want to look at him. The young wolf had made some very big assumptions. Geralt felt a pang of guilt when he realized that his past treatment of the other witcher was still molding how Lambert perceived himself through Geralt’s eyes. </p><p>He had a lot of mending to do, and as was usual, the most direct path was the easiest. “Lambert, you are not unattractive,” Geralt said. “I’m not adverse to sleeping with you.”</p><p>That earned him a scowl. </p><p>“Wow, I don’t know if I am offended or not at that wording,” Lambert grumbled. “‘Not unattractive’ and ‘Not adverse’. Wow, thanks.”</p><p>Fuck. Geralt really wasn’t the best at this. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You and I, we are getting along better,” he replied, slowly and clearly. “If you are willing, I will assist you. If not,” he gestured largely to the crumbling room around them, “I will help find a place for you to nest and keep Eskel safe.”</p><p>Lambert suddenly whipped about and paced, a difficult task with the rubble all about the floor. He still managed it, burning his energy off in long strides before tracing his way back. He snapped his fingers at Geralt as he moved. </p><p>“Yeah,” he said. “Okay, if Eskel says it’s okay, I’ll agree to you helping me.”</p><p>Geralt tipped his head. “Eskel comes too. Trust me.”</p><p>“Fuck!” Lambert shouted, and did another lap about the ruin, bouncing on his toes. When he made his way around again, he stopped in front of Geralt and prodded him hard in the chest. “You have to promise, Geralt. He doesn’t get a scratch on him. You promise.”</p><p>That was an easy promise to make. “I swear it. I will keep you both safe.”</p><p>Lambert stared at him, long and hard, and finally broke his gaze by rolling his eyes. “Always the fucking hero,” he muttered. “What do you get out of this?”</p><p>Geralt blinked at him. “I think that would be obvious,” he said, giving the other wolf a slow once-over. Lambert was a prickly shit of a man, but he really wasn’t bad to look at.</p><p>The omega sputtered in response. His ears reddened further. Some of the color bled to his cheeks.</p><p>Geralt struggled not to laugh. “What?”</p><p>“Fuck me, sorry if I’m surprised!” Lambert said, throwing his hands up. “I thought you hated me a few months ago and now you’re saying you want filthy heat-sex with me?”</p><p>“You’re not very observant, wolf,” Geralt deadpanned, enjoying the mix of bluster and embarrassment. “You’re good looking, but we haven’t gotten along well enough for it to be a thought I entertained. I’m certainly entertaining it now.”</p><p>Lambert laughed, rubbing the back of his head, messing his hair further. “Yeah, I guess I did get off literally right in front of you.” He shifted back and forth, still overflowing with his nerves. Geralt knew he had more to say, and waited. Lambert wasn’t able to keep his words in for long, and Geralt learned that it sometimes paid off to wait for him to spill. </p><p>“This is going to be fucking embarrassing,” he finally muttered. He shifted his gaze over to Geralt and leveled a serious look at him. “Look. This is going to be different than that little show with Eskel. I don’t exactly like having company in my heats. It’s- I’m not myself.” </p><p>I’m not in control, not able to censor myself, Geralt heard. He understood that fear. It was uncomfortable, letting someone see you vulnerable. Omegas experienced the worst in that regard, either savage or blind with lust.</p><p>“I’ve seen you in your heats.”</p><p>“No,” Lambert huffed, “you’ve seen me satisfied and energetic. You haven’t seen me humping air and crying.”</p><p>Geralt swallowed and blinked frantically. Was that something he was going to see? He wasn’t exactly put off by that idea. “I’ve heard you were very pleasant in your quelled heats,” he blurted, instead. Lambert jolted in alarm and Geralt cursed. He didn’t mean to say that. </p><p>“What?”</p><p>No use for it now. “Remus wasn’t very shy about how impressive he found you in bed,” he admitted. The old wolf complained when he first got the task of satisfying Lambert’s heats, but that tune changed after a season. Remus was more than happy to help their ‘lusty little pup’, as he called him. Geralt was honestly surprised Eskel hadn’t begged for details.</p><p>“That fucking pervert,” Lambert said. He sounded strangely proud. “Was he just airing my laundry when I wasn’t in the room?”</p><p>Geralt shrugged. “Normally needed a few cups in him, first- but he liked to send a lewd look at your backside every now and again.”</p><p>Lambert laughed, incredulous and amused. The nervous air disappeared with it. “Fucking dirty old bastard,” he said. He shook his head, amused. </p><p>Geralt allowed the smile to pull at his lips, knowing that Lambert relaxed when seeing it. The omega was expressive with his face, and looked to others for the same cues. Geralt did his best to communicate in return.</p><p>A particularly awful gust of wind whistled through the gap in the wall, and Lambert shivered. </p><p>“Let’s go in the hall,” Geralt offered, turning back. The heavy door to the room was intact, and although the corridor was cold, the air was still and less offensive. </p><p>Forced into closer proximity, Lambert began to buzz with energy once again. “Fuck, okay,” he said, tapping his hands against his thighs. “You said your room? You want me to nest in your room?”</p><p>It made the most sense. “It’s bigger than yours and smells like me. Why not?”</p><p>Lambert let out a long gust of a breath and stared at the cobwebbed ceiling of the corridor, as if beseeching it for a better solution. Finding nothing but dead spiders, he groaned. “This is going to go so fucking wrong.”</p><p>“Not if I can help it.” Geralt huffed and bumped their shoulders as he walked past, gently shoving Lambert into motion. This wing of the keep was decrepit and useless, and Lambert haunting it was unhelpful. Geralt had a task in front of him; help his kin through their dilemma. It was a contract, a mission. He was good at fulfilling those. </p><p>Lambert followed, grumbling as Geralt herded him to warmer and more welcoming places. </p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Geralt expected Lambert to start bringing things to his room, he just didn’t expect it to start that night. </p><p>“Help me with this. I almost fucking fell on my face,” the omega growled, hauling what looked like two massive bear pelts and at least four wolf furs. Geralt took a few off the top, allowing Lambert to see better over the mound. Once inside, he dumped them on the floor.</p><p>“Did you just steal these from all over the keep?” Geralt asked, holding a fur that looked like the one they had draped over the chair in the library.</p><p>“Communal property,” Lambert groused, grabbing one of Geralt’s armchairs and dragging it off to the side of the fireplace. Geralt’s room was at least twice the size of Lambert’s, and had space for his massive bed, a desk, several bookshelves, a small table and a lounging area by the fire. The bath was hidden in the far corner, and the latrine was in the connecting room. With their keen noses, witchers were not fans of chamber pots. </p><p>Lambert was attacking the lounging area. </p><p>“Going to want to make two spaces,” he said, pushing at the other couch. He angled it, but didn’t press it up against the wall. A bear fur was thrown over it. “One cool and one warm. I get overheated and irritated. Fireplace is best for the warm one.”</p><p>Geralt let Lambert work, not putting up an argument. He knew, when he offered his space, that he was signing up for a mess. Lambert would be responsible for cleaning it up, of course. </p><p>“Could strip the bed down to linens and let it be the cool spot,” Geralt offered. It was far enough from the fireplace. </p><p>Lambert stared at his bed, and his pupils dilated. He looked dazed for a moment, as if he just remembered what was supposed to be happening here in less than a week. “Okay,” he said, and dove back into his work, laying out the furs over the rug Geralt had by the fire before fleeing again. </p><p>The next day, he came with what looked like a cloth tarp and deer leathers. By that evening, Geralt’s room was nearly unrecognizable.</p><p>“You think you have enough stuff?” Geralt asked, stepping carefully over what was now a mound of old pillows, furs and fabrics to get to something on a far bookshelf. </p><p>Lambert was ripping old, moth-eaten clothes into rags. Geralt appreciated the forethought. There would be a lot of use for them. “I don’t know. Remus had me nesting in a fucking storage closet. There's going to be three of us here for several days. Gotta be comfortable.”</p><p>Geralt couldn’t argue with that. </p><p>He did his part to help as well, making sure to lay about in the nest by the fire when he read at night, letting his scent permeate the space. Lambert would slink in and out of his room at odd hours, increasingly agitated and obsessive. It wouldn’t be long.</p><p>Eskel, to his credit, did very well at trying to keep his distance. After a brief conversation about their plan, Lambert avoided the alpha like he was a curse, going so far as to snarl at Eskel when he tried to peek in on the nest. Geralt dealt with the both of them, calming Lambert down and reassuring him when the inevitable guilt reared its head, and cheering Eskel up by faithfully describing how well it was coming along. </p><p>The solstice came and their celebrations were limited. Lambert was hiding, flitting between his moonshine still, the nest and his room, avoiding everyone. Vesemir still made the best of it, cooking a large meal and mulling cider. Eskel was glued to Geralt’s side, but it wasn’t a hardship. </p><p>Geralt went to bed late, but was woken up by his door opening and a quickened heartbeat sliding into the room.</p><p>“Lambert?” Geralt guessed. He barely had scented the air when he felt the other man tumble into him, frantically scrabbling to get to skin. “Okay, okay- you’re alright.”</p><p>The omega gulped at his scent, damp palms gripping Geralt’s shoulders so hard he thought he may bruise. “Didn’t eat today,” he said. He sounded delirious. “Didn’t eat yesterday. Not hungry. It’s soon.”</p><p>Geralt sniffed at the sweat on Lambert’s temple. The undercurrent of his scent had changed, and beyond the sour stink of anxiety there was a cloying pull of pheromones. “Yeah, it is. Come on.”</p><p>He shifted to pull the omega down beside him, sleeping the way they did up the mountain so Lambert could get rest- but something hard and metallic was stuffed in the pocket of Lambert’s slacks, and poked Geralt in the hip.</p><p>“What is this?” He asked, pulling it out. It jangled loudly in the dark, and Geralt felt a chill. “Lambert, no.”</p><p>He’d brought the shackles, the ones he’d asked Eskel to use. They were heavy and made of solid iron. Unforgiving. These were the kind of shackles they would use to restrain witchers who had gone feral after the trial. He suddenly understood why the thought of them made Eskel furious.</p><p>Lambert must have picked up on it, and he swallowed harshly. “I’m sorry. I just- I’m fucked up.”</p><p>Geralt tossed the shackles off the bed. He’d hide them in the morning. There was no way he was letting Lambert keep them. “You’re not going to hurt anyone,” he growled, shaking the man beside him. The shine of Lambert’s pupils caught in the sliver of light from the far window, the waning crest a thin glowing slice in the night sky. His eyes were wide and terrified. Geralt felt sick at the sight of it- it was the type of fear he’d felt only when seeing himself for the first time, toxic and mutated with poison. Fear of oneself, of what you could do.</p><p>Geralt folded himself around his younger brother, pulling him in like he did when Lambert had asked for Geralt’s sword instead of his mercy. This time, however, Lambert didn’t fight. He burrowed into Geralt’s chest and clawed at his back, frantic as if he could crawl into his skin.</p><p>“It’s so fucked. I hate this. I hate being this,” he whined, muffled and shaking. Geralt pet his sides like he did to Roach when she was agitated, long, strong sweeps of his hands.</p><p>“It isn’t fair,” Geralt conceded. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>The heartbeat that hammered under his palm only slowed with patience. Lambert was lax against him, the quelling doing its work- but the scent could do nothing to chase away emotions. For that, he relied on himself, not his beta nature. </p><p>“I’m going to keep you safe,” he promised. Lambert was quiet and still, but not asleep. The fingers on Geralt’s back flexed. “You’re not going to hurt anyone.”</p><p>The quiet stretched for a long time, and Geralt felt on the verge of sleep, warm and held tight in a way he hadn’t been for a long while. Even with the circumstances, it was pleasant.</p><p>Lambert was barely audible when he spoke again. “Always the fucking hero,” he said into Geralt’s nightshirt. It was soft and without bite. </p><p>Geralt snorted a laugh, and held him tighter.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Lambert was calmer when morning came, but the fever of preheat had him sweating and fidgeting, and Geralt woke to find Lambert already sprawled in his nest. His shirt was off, and his skin was slick and gleaming. </p><p>“I’ll draw you a bath,” Geralt offered after he got dressed, grabbing the buckets he kept by the tub. He was the only one who bothered to have a bath in his own room, the others used the communal tub closer to the well. Geralt had been repeatedly mocked for hauling his water up to his ‘private suite’. He was on his third trip when he came in to Lambert already naked and sitting in the half-filled tub, splashing and scrubbing himself furiously.</p><p>“No use in being shy. You’re about to see all of it in detail,” he said, viciously scrubbing his hair. He hadn’t even bothered to heat the water. Geralt dumped a bucket over his head.</p><p>“I would have filled it.”</p><p>Lambert shrugged and rinsed himself off. “Probably should, still. I’m not going to be the only disgusting one come tomorrow.” He shook his head like a dog, spraying Geralt, who threw a towel at him before continuing with his water hauling. He knew he would want at least some semi-clean bath water at some point. </p><p>Eskel caught him at the bottom of the stairs.</p><p>“What’s going on?” The alpha leaned in, sniffing at Geralt, and caught scent of the preheat. It was only a light smell now, but it was enough. “Aw fuck. How long?”</p><p>“By tonight. He’s fine right now. Getting bathwater up to the room.”</p><p>Eskel grabbed a bucket from him, already tense. Rutting alphas were desperate to be useful, and Geralt wasn’t about to argue. They filled the pails and scaled the stairs, but Geralt stopped Eskel at the end of the hall.</p><p>“You’re not following me, big guy. Stay here.”</p><p>Geralt delivered the last of the water and checked on Lambert, who waved him off. He was grumbling, rubbing quelling oil into his wrists and sitting in front of the fire in nothing but his oversized wool shirt. His hair was a mess, but his heartbeat was calm. Geralt left him to it. </p><p>Eskel, however, did not leave Geralt’s side the entire day. He  trailed  him during chores and sat shoulder to shoulder at meals. The eldest wolf picked up the scent of preheat as well, and by dinner Vesimir had a basket full of provisions ready to go up. </p><p>“I’ll deliver food and drink twice a day. Put out empty buckets you want filled.” He set the filled kit on the table and eyed Geralt sternly. “You keep Eskel eating, or he’ll lose consciousness and you’ll be the one saddled with the pup.”</p><p>Vesemir had been skeptical of Geralt’s plan, but knew other witcher trios who had been successful before. The best he could do to help was keep them in supplies and come to the rescue if needed. </p><p>He dearly hoped he wasn’t needed. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The scent of Lambert’s heat strengthened as the evening bore on into night, and Eskel became increasingly desperate to return to their rooms. Geralt coordinated with Vesemir to keep Eskel in his own room until Geralt fetched him.</p><p>“This is going to work, right?” Eskel asked, barely lucid through the fog the pheromones were putting him in. </p><p>Geralt knocked their heads together gently. “Yes.”</p><p>Eskel nodded in agreement, and let Geralt go.</p><p>He knew what to expect when he stepped through the door, so Geralt immediately dropped the basket of provisions and raised his hands to catch the man flying at him. Lambert snarled like a mad dog, teeth snapping in threat. Geralt went lax, not even flinching as the omega bit the side of his neck. It wasn’t hard enough to break skin, and the sharpness of it turned smooth as Lambert licked over the bite. </p><p>Geralt’s quelling had Lambert going from feral to tame in a matter of seconds, and the omega leaned heavily against him, soothing the mark he’d made.</p><p>“Fuck,” Lambert muttered, “m’sorry.”</p><p>“You’re alright,” Geralt said, gently shoving him off. He wanted to at least get in the door and assess the situation. </p><p>Lambert let himself be pushed, and swayed on his feet, looking drunk and riled. His scent was potent enough to make even a beta salivate, and Geralt snorted the smell out of his nose so he could focus.</p><p>“Can I come in?”</p><p>Lambert leered at him and nodded, taking a step back. Geralt took the basket to the table and unpacked it. The omega followed, hovering close enough to feel his breath. Geralt tried to ignore him. Their care package had a jug of water, wheel of cheese, loaf of bread, dried fruits and the added treat of honey cakes with a note on them to make sure Geralt shared. The beta rolled his eyes, but took the time to lick his sticky fingers free of honey. </p><p>He was in the process of inspecting a tin of what looked like healing ointment when a pair of hands closed on his hips. Lambert leaned against him, his body a line of burning heat, fever-hot and vibrating with energy. A low, interested growl rumbled in his chest. Geralt tried not to startle when he felt the press of a very hard cock to his ass.</p><p>“Well,” he commented dryly, “don’t need to ask how you’re feeling.”</p><p>Lambert nosed his hair out of the way and scraped his teeth on the back of Geralt’s neck, a mock of a mating hold. Geralt suppressed a shudder. </p><p>“Kept thinking about it all day,” Lambert groaned. “Your fault.  You put it in my head.”</p><p>“What,” he asked, “Eskel coming with?”</p><p>Lambert managed to tear himself away from Geralt’s back and paced, trying to burn off his energy. Geralt glanced back at him. The omega’s thighs were wet with slick down to the knee. Geralt turned back to the table and stared hard at the grain of the wood. </p><p>“Melitlie’s cunt,” Lambert whined, “been locked in here, fucking riled and thinking about getting the two of you, getting to bounce from one cock to another? Fuck, I’m never going to not think of that.”</p><p>Geralt smiled to himself and let Lambert pace. The quelling could only do so much to calm him. He set the empty buckets and basket outside the door for Vesemir, and whistled down the hall, letting Eskel know he was fine. Behind him, Lambert huffed impatiently and threw himself into his nest. </p><p>“Stop throwing a tantrum, Lambert. I’ll be there in a minute.”</p><p>The omega growled ominously, but the noise ended in a low whine. He muffled it by biting into his bare forearm, and Geralt smelled the metallic tang of blood. Fuck, he shouldn’t be teasing him- this wasn’t a normal situation. Unattended heats were painful, and Lambert was being patient, not grabbing Geralt by the cock and dragging him to bed. </p><p>Geralt snatched the tin of healing ointment from the table and went to the nest, quickly shucking down to his braies. Lambert hadn’t let go of his own forearm.</p><p>“Stop that, come here,” he muttered, pulling gently at the omega’s wrist. He let up on the bite- it wasn’t severe, but it did bleed. Thank the gods for the pile of rags Lambert had the forethought to amass. </p><p>“Let me clean it up,” Geralt said, allowing Lambert to lean in on him. The blood wiped away easily, and the healing salve was buttery smooth, stopping the wound from leaking further. It would close in a matter of minutes. </p><p>Geralt wrapped his arm around Lambert’s shoulders and laid down, letting the omega cling to his side. “Give yourself a second to calm down,” he said, stroking long lines down Lambert’s back, the way he did the night before. </p><p>Now, with his chest bare, Lambert had a new expanse of skin to sniff and explore. The omega was almost polite at first, simply smelling him, but it devolved quickly into licks, drinking up his scent and skin like it was something delectable. He nipped at Geralt’s chest, light and harmless, and sucked pink marks, humming in delight. Geralt tried to temper himself, but it was useless. Lambert smelled like sex and need, and he was groping across Geralt’s chest and abdomen. His remaining clothing did nothing to hide his erection.</p><p> Lambert had his eyes set on it. “Can I?” He asked, voice near pleading. Geralt didn’t know what Lambert wanted, but nodded anyway.</p><p>The omega nearly shredded his braies, ripping a seam and pulling them down Geralt’s legs in a quick motion. </p><p>“Off, off, off…” he muttered, flinging the torn garment across the room. “Fuck yes, alright.”</p><p>Geralt had tried to prepare himself mentally, but getting  his cock enthusiastically swallowed by Lambert was not something he was altogether ready for. He hissed and bucked, but Lambert rode the movement out, moaning happily around Geralt’s length. It felt deviant and divine, a hot, wet mouth on his prick and a strong grip on his hips. It had been years since Geralt had slept with another witcher, and knowing the strength in the man on top of him made him groan.</p><p>Lambert pulled off, panting. “Fuck,  I’m on fire,” he said, sitting up. He was sweating and his hair was wild. “You okay if I hop up?”</p><p>It took Geralt an embarrassingly long moment to realize Lambert meant he wanted to sit on his dick. </p><p>“Oh, sure.”</p><p>If Lambert wasn’t broiling in his heat, Geralt was sure he would have been laughed at. As it was, the omega simply threw a strong thigh over Geralt’s hips and lined him up. His cock slid in smoothly, Lambert’s body naturally slick and muscles relaxed. He must have been fingering himself before the beta’s arrival. Geralt bit his own tongue to stop from shouting at the delicious heat suddenly encasing him.</p><p>“Mmm, yeah. There we go,” Lambert sighed, pleased. The muscles in his legs and abdomen flexed as he moved, undulating his hips as he fucked himself down onto Geralt’s cock. The beta laid back, letting himself be used. Lambert didn’t even need help with a hand on his cock; he was already stroking himself in time with his movements. </p><p>He was a sight to look at, dark hair free of wax, winter-long and messy. His lips were flushed and eyes lidded. He was still leaner than he should have been, but the lack of ample winter fat put his musculature on full display. Geralt openly stared. Lambert was built more slender than he was, and the strong, wide set of his shoulders sloped perfectly down to a narrow waist. Now that he wasn’t skeletal, he was a handsome figure to loot at. </p><p>Geralt kneaded the firm muscle of Lambert’s thighs, appreciating the show. The omega was oblivious of the admiration. His eyes were hazy in pleasure and his cock drooled onto Geralt’s stomach as he fucked himself. </p><p>When he could get some leverage, Geralt tried to match Lambert’s movements, thrusting his hips up against his downward stroke. The added force had Lambert moaning at every exhale, and he sturdied himself with a hand on Geralt’s chest, his fingertips digging into the muscle. </p><p>They bucked and rode in as fluid a motion as they could, coming together with a hard enough impact to make the sound echo in the room. </p><p>Geralt began to feel sweat prickle his brow as he felt his orgasm building, but his quiet groans were drowned out by Lambert’s sudden shout. His hole clenched hard on Geralt’s cock as he came, leaving a mess over Geralt’s chest and belly. He stopped moving and sat perfectly still, shuddering through his orgasm. His eyelashes fluttered prettily as he drew a long, relieved gasp.</p><p>“Fuck, needed that for hours,” he said, his shoulders dropping in relief. Geralt shivered under him, still wound painfully tight. He nearly whimpered when Lambert simply rolled off of him. </p><p>The omega flopped down onto his belly next to Geralt with a long, pleased groan, snuggling into the fur of one of the pelts in the nest. Geralt stared at him.</p><p>“You fucking brat,” he growled, grabbing at his cock to relieve some of the painful pressure that came from pulling back from the brink of orgasm. </p><p>Lambert peered up at him from where he laid, face-down and limp. The corner of his mouth was upturned in amusement.  “Aw, sorry. Was that frustrating?” He spread his thighs and tilted his hips. Geralt growled at the subtle presentation. </p><p>“What,” he asked, feigning innocence, “you wanna breed me, pretty boy?”</p><p>Geralt’s cock throbbed in his hand. Yeah, he really did.</p><p>Lambert raised a challenging eyebrow. “Well, come on then.”</p><p>He thought he was getting better at not rising to Lambert’s teasing, but this was a special situation. Geralt pounced on the omega, guiding his cock back into the hot, wet heat of him. Lambert groaned in appreciation and braced himself as Geralt fucked into him, fast and rough, taking what he wanted.</p><p>Of course, that was exactly what Lambert planned. </p><p>“Fuck yes,” he snarled, throwing himself back into Geralt’s hips, refusing to stay still. “Knew you’d have a nice cock.” He was panting, sweat trickling down his spine. Geralt licked at it, enjoying the salt and sweet musk of Lambert’s heat. He nosed at the damp hair at the nape of his neck, sucking and kissing at the skin there.</p><p>Lambert shivered, arching against the mouth on him. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he said, breathless. “Fuck, give me a bite.” Lambert’s voice was shaking, and Geralt groaned against his neck at the idea of it. A mating bite, a mark of trust. The part of him that was more animal than man was desperate for it, and his arousal surged, but as Geralt began to tip over the edge, he pressed a messy, growling kiss to Lambert’s shoulder instead.</p><p>The omega didn’t seem to mind, and rocked happily underneath him, savoring the cum-slick slide of Geralt’s softening prick. Geralt caught his breath and gently extracted himself, rolling off to the side. Lambert turned as well, reaching back to grab Geralt by the arm and pull him up against his back.</p><p>“Didn’t take you for the cuddling type,” he teased. Lambert snorted and guided hand lower to his renewed erection.</p><p>“Ain’t asking for cuddles,” he sighed, going boneless as Geralt got his hand on him. He realized this was the first time he’d touched Lambert’s cock, and Geralt lifted himself up enough to see over Lambert’s shoulder. </p><p>His cock was nice, smaller than Geralt’s, but still thick enough to be a handful. The head was flushed a handsome dark pink, and his foreskin moved smoothly along his shaft. Geralt wanted his mouth on it. </p><p>“Fuck, forgot how good this is, having a beta for a heat,” Lambert said, letting Geralt stroke him.</p><p>“Yeah?” </p><p>“Yeah.” Lambert was loose-limbed and smelled of satisfaction. He tilted his head back to gaze up at Geralt, pupils blown and eyes lidded. “That fucking anger is just gone—ah!” His hips jerked as Geralt tightened his grip. “Nice to not feel like a stupid, savage animal.”</p><p>Geralt hummed in agreement, rubbing his lips on Lambert’s shoulder as he felt the other man tense against him, another orgasm nearing. Just seeing Lambert calm was pleasant, and knowing that he was causing it, gave Geralt a thrill.</p><p>“I’ll keep you tame,” he muttered, twisting his wrist and rubbing the callous on his index finger against the underside of Lambert’s cock. </p><p>The omega twitched his hips and groaned, eyelids fluttering. “Fuck. You gunna hold me down?” He asked, biting at his lower lip. Geralt considered the question, and found it appealing. It wasn’t the first time Lambert brought it up. If he wanted it, Geralt would do it.</p><p>“I’ll give you what you need,” he promised.</p><p>Lambert moaned and came, and Geralt enjoyed the sight of it. He always loved seeing his partner’s pleasure, loved watching their expressions and hearing their sighs. Lambert didn’t grunt or huff as he found his relief, but groaned like he was sinking into a hot bath. Geralt nearly echoed the noise. </p><p>Finally, the frantic energy that plagued Lambert was gone, and he looked drowsy and drunk. He peered at Geralt with a lopsided smile, and lazily reached for the nearest scrap of rag they had nearby. </p><p>“Just relax, I’ll clean you up,” Geralt said, taking the rag and working at wiping them clean. He needed to use two more to get them decent, and when he was finished he settled down next to Lambert and sighed, considering. </p><p>“I told Eskel an hour. We’ve got a little time left.”</p><p>Lambert rolled into him, throwing a heavy arm over Geralt’s middle and rubbing his face in his chest hair, covering himself in the beta’s scent. From where he was buried, he spoke softly. “You’re going to keep him safe.” It wasn’t a question, but an affirmation. Geralt felt no need to respond, and wrapped an arm around Lambert as well. He had Lambert’s trust, and that was enormous. He wouldn’t fail them.</p><p>They laid together in quiet, and Geralt realized Lambert was meditating, his breath slow and deep. The fact he could do it at all during his heat was a sign of how quelled he truly was. It was reassuring, and Geralt took what rest he could. </p><p>Soon enough, the hour was over, and Geralt needed to fetch Eskel. There was only so much that Vesemir would be able to do to keep him calm and settled. Geralt extracted himself slowly, tossing a fur over Lambert before he left.</p><p>Geralt pulled a pair of pants on and walked down the hall. He didn’t need to knock on the door, because Eskel opened it as soon as Geralt reached it, nearly launching himself at the beta. Geralt caught him easily, and let Eskel crush him in a tight embrace. He was so physically affectionate during a rut, wanting constant reassurance. It embarrassed the alpha when he was younger, but Eskel had long outgrown his shame at his subsex. </p><p>The alpha sniffed at Geralt with nervous huffs, tasting the mixed smell of an omega in season and a calm beta. The effect was unfamiliar for them, and Eskel dug his fingers into Geralt’s back, whining low in his throat. Over his shoulder, Vesemir observed them carefully.</p><p>“He’s going to have trouble speaking,” the old wolf said, gesturing to Eskel. “It hits them hard when they catch scent of each other, at least at first. He’ll be in a fog, but he’ll come out of it after they knot. Might not be talking clearly until they round the bend, though.” Vesemir looked absolutely unaffected that he was talking about his students in a mating frenzy. He’d been around so long, Geralt was sure he’d seen just about everything. Hell, he’d probably played the mediating role before. “Lambert’s the one you need to watch out for, Geralt. The first time, especially. Even quelled, that alpha scent makes them ravenous.”</p><p>Geralt nodded his thanks and held Eskel to him, letting his brother sniff and whine and rub his face all over him like a great cat. He felt guilty, for a moment, that he was the lucky one out of the three of them. Lambert and Eskel were going to be driven mute and mad but the scent of one another, and Geralt only felt the slightest tingle and draw. That loss of control must have been infuriating.</p><p>Eskel took a long time to calm, Lambert’s scent riling him up before the quelling overpowered it. Geralt told Vesemir of his plan and signal, and made his way back down to his room. They would follow in a few minutes and Vesemir would hold Eskel at bay until Geralt gave the all clear. </p><p>Lambert was still snuggled in his nest when Geralt returned, barely perking up and growling at the noise. He looked calm for a moment, but Geralt went to him quickly, knowing the scent of Eskel on his skin would aggravate him.</p><p>He had barely gotten three steps when Lambert started shivering. His pupils blew wide and his body tensed all over. Geralt got down quickly and let Lambert tackle him, let him sniff and snarl against his skin. He had gone from normal to animalistic in an instant, desperate and hungry when the scent of an alpha hit him.</p><p>“It’s alright,” Geralt said, brushing his fingers gently down the omega’s heaving ribs. “You’re okay.”</p><p>Lambert was salivating, shaking and confused. He smelled scared and aroused, the mixture strange and unwelcome. He nipped at Geralt’s chest and neck, small, stinging bites that were still restrained, but struggling.</p><p>“Fuck, help,” he gasped, pressing himself to Geralt, body burning hot. “Help.”</p><p>“I’ve got you,” Geralt muttered, rolling them over and using his body weight to pin Lambert down. The quelling slowed the heart beneath him, and he fought a groan as Lambert sucked on his neck, as if he could draw the scent out of him by force.</p><p>The omega began to writhe under him, a whine in the back of his throat. His thighs spread wide, coming to bracket Geralt’s hips. Eskel’s smell had brought the roaring arousal of Lambert’s heat to the forefront, and he rubbed up against Geralt in desperation.</p><p>Geralt knew he wasn’t going to be able to get hard, not with the heavy scent of fear that clung to his partner’s skin. The smell of his heat was strong, but a sour stench tainted it. Instead, Geralt reached down between Lambert’s legs, slid his fingers through the pooling slick, and pressed them against his hole. The omega shuddered and bucked, pushing down against him and forcing two inside the scalding clench of his body. </p><p>Lambert gasped and released Geralt’s neck, leaving a livid bruise behind. The stimulation seemed to ground him, bring his attention to his needs, and he moved his hips encouragingly, trying to ride Geralt’s fingers.</p><p>“That’s it,” Geralt rumbled, smoothing the palm of his other hand over Lambert’s brow. His eyes were hazy, and his nerves relaxed as Geralt fingered him. The quelling had pacified that burst of aggression, and Geralt wanted Lambert needy and gentled before he had Eskel come in.</p><p>He hadn’t thought to ask about kissing, and cursed himself for the lack of forethought. Lambert’s lips were full and flushed, open and inviting and within his reach. It wouldn’t be fair to impose. It wasn’t his place.</p><p>Geralt had a job to do.</p><p>Instead, he brought his mouth down elsewhere, sucking marks onto Lambert’s throat. The omega tipped his chin up, exposing all the vulnerable places in a sign of trust. Geralt hummed against his skin, fever-hot, and added a finger, stretching Lambert wider. </p><p>The penetration was enough to entice him, but not enough to satisfy. He wasn’t aching for release, yet-just desperate for stimulus. Lambert moaned and panted, lost in sensation as Geralt stoked his prostate, massaging the gland and egging him on. He’d want more soon, and Geralt had just the person to give it to him. </p><p>With a fluid motion, he flipped them, bringing Lambert up to lay upon his chest, withdrawing his fingers only to wrap his arm around Lambert’s back and sink them back inside. He was gloriously wet, the slick coating his thighs and soaking Geralt’s hand. He rubbed and stretched the omega’s hole, listening carefully to the cadence of Lambert’s heart. He was sex-drunk and calm, rubbing his beard across Geralt’s collarbone and breathing out soft, pleased moans.</p><p>With the hand not fingering the man on top of him, Geralt snapped his fingers twice. </p><p>The door opened slowly, and Eskel stumbled in. Normally, Lambert would be aware of his nest being invaded, but Geralt has sufficiently distracted him. Eskel looked dumbstruck, staring at the naked expanse of Lambert’s back, the obscene spread of his thighs as he straddled Geralt’s still-clothed hips. The awe quickly transformed as the full brunt of Lambert’s scent hit Eskel, and the poor alpha was stumbling on his own trousers as he stripped and walked at the same time. </p><p>Geralt didn’t need to direct him at all. Eskel was down on all fours in an instant, and Geralt’s fingers were hastily moved out of the way to make space for Eskel’s tongue. </p><p>Lambert yelped and shivered, pushing back on the sensation. Geralt stroked his hair and carefully settled his hand on the back of Lambert’s neck.</p><p>“Feels good?” He asked, loving the small, pathetic noises Lambert made as Eskel lapped at him. The omega could only nod and rock back against the mouth on him, seemingly unconcerned about where that mouth came from. It was only when Eskel whined and shifted, sliding his chest over Lambert’s arched back, did he notice their company. </p><p>Lambert jerked and growled, startled, but didn’t have the strength to turn. Geralt tightened his fingers, effectively scruffing the man, and held him still. </p><p> “Shh,” he murmured, rubbing his smooth cheek against Lambert’s furred one, “you’re good. It’s Eskel, you love Eskel.”</p><p>Through the fog of heat and quelling, Lambert blinked out at him. “Yeah?” He asked, trying to tilt his head to see behind him. Geralt leaned back and allowed the small movement. “Kelly?” His voice was quiet and sweet, like something muttered in a pleasant sleep. Eskel surged up to kiss Lambert’s ear and jaw, anywhere he could reach, and Lambert smiled. It looked drunk and dopey, and it made Geralt’s chest tighten.</p><p>The sweet moment ended, however, when Eskel ground down onto Lambert . The omega nearly crooned at the sensation, and they shifted, fitting together.</p><p>Geralt had the pleasure of watching Lambert’s eyes widen as he was penetrated. He bit at his lip, groaning beautifully as Eskel began to move, fucking into him with deep, insistent rolls of his hips. This first time wasn’t going to be graceful; Eskel was rut-blind and Lambert was desperate from the scent of his willing prey. Geralt stretched out under them, not quite squashed, and cradled Lambert to his chest, letting the omega mouth and lick at his neck and collarbone as their pace increased. The deep groans and reedy pants against his skin were intoxicating in their own right, but Geralt could wait. </p><p>Outside of a rut, Eskel would be embarrassed at how quickly he finished. His hips began to stutter only a few minutes in, and came with a low, pleading whine, dragging his teeth on Lambert’s neck. The omega growled happily and wriggled, pushing back as Eskel began to knot. Geralt had fooled around with a rutting alpha before, and the size of a knot was daunting. Eskel was already large, and the added girth would hurt most anyone.</p><p>Not an omega in heat, apparently. Lambert was in bliss, gasping as he was stretched, his eyes rolling. Geralt felt Lambert’s cock drool onto his lower belly, and snuck a hand between them to help relieve him. </p><p>Lambert clenched and pulled on Eskel as Geralt jerked him off, his mouth open and lips bitten red. Geralt wanted to lick into his mouth, swallow all the obscene, forbidden sounds pouring out of it. How was it that Lambert’s face, normally so sullen, softened like this? How was it Eskel noticed it decades before Geralt even thought to look? </p><p>He was denied the sight when Lambert orgasmed, pressing his face into Geralt’s neck and muffling his cry as he came, his spend dribbling over Geralt’s fingers. </p><p>He let his packmates rest on top of him, petting soothing lines down Lambert’s ribs as he panted into Geralt’s skin, and gently scratching at Eskel’s scalp. The alpha smiled at him, a soft thing, even on twisted lips. He was pheromone-drunk and in a more primal state, but his easy affection for Geralt was still there.</p><p>“Did good, Eskel,” he muttered. The alpha sighed and collapsed further, effectively crushing Geralt under their combined weight. He wasn’t exactly comfortable in this position, but he could deal with it.</p><p>Once their tie released, Eskel flopped down to the side, landing in the soft mess of the nest with a huff. Without Lambert between them, Eskel could lean in and sniff at Geralt, burying his nose in his hair. He pressed a kiss to the beta’s temple, and Geralt chuckled and shoved at Lambert’s dead weight on his chest.</p><p>The omega glared at him, but slid off to drape himself over Eskel, instead. He was satiated and calm, his scent radiating pleasure. He was no threat at the moment, and Geralt took the time to clean them up. Lambert wouldn’t sleep for a while yet, not with only three orgasms wrung out of him, but the knot would help scratch the constant itch that omegas suffered in their heat. </p><p>Sure enough, Lambert perked up less than a quarter hour later, his lazy licks and kisses becoming more insistent. Eskel, the perfect alpha that he was, lay still and docile under his mate’s command, waiting to be of use. Lambert perched himself on Eskel’s hips, grinding down on him in preparation to ride. Geralt caught the surge of aggression even before it happened, grabbing Lambert about the waist and turning him so that he faced away. He wouldn’t be able to bite or claw at the alpha at that angle, and it allowed Geralt the easy option of sitting himself down on Eskel’s knees. With Lambert’s attention on him, there was no way he could harm his mate.</p><p>Irritated at being distracted, Lambert growled and leaned into Geralt, nipping at his neck.</p><p>“Enough of that, brat,” Geralt said, urging Lambert up so that Eskel could slide his cock inside of him. The feisty bites turned into moaning kisses against his skin as he pushed Lambert down onto Eskel. “Take what you need. Eskel is being very good for you.”</p><p>Lambert didn’t need any more encouragement. He rode Eskel with the same enthusiasm he’d shown Geralt, with a single-minded purpose. Geralt sat back and watched, enjoying the show from a different angle. Lambert looked wild, his hair messy and chest gleaming with sweat, pupils blown so wide they looked circular. He was fully enthralled by his heat, unable to speak and desperate. The lack of talking was strange; Lambert ran his mouth more than anyone in Kaer Morhen. Geralt had been so used to his bitching that it was disheartening not to hear it. </p><p>However, lack of words did not mean Lambert was in any way quiet. He moaned with every push and drag of the cock inside of him, the sounds evolving as he moved faster, turning into low exclamations as he began to slam himself down with his full weight. Eskel pawed weakly at Lambert’s hips and thighs, sighing as he was used. The smell of heat and rut mixed with sweat and cum, and Geralt breathed the musk in deep. Lambert especially smelled divine- is ample slick adding an earthen ripeness that was delectable while also being obscene. Geralt’s cock firmed up in his trousers as he watched Lambert take himself apart on Eskel’s cock.</p><p>Eskel lasted just about as long as Geralt had under Lambert’s brutal pace, and he groaned and shuddered, his grip firming up enough to hold Lambert in place on top of him as his knot swelled. Geralt watched Lambert pant through the stretch, a whine in his throat. Geralt had never taken a knot- he’d always had any rutting alphas pull out before finishing. The idea was daunting, being stuck on a cock, the normal base tapering up into a fat bulge in the middle, too large to pull free without causing injury. An omega in heat was built to accommodate them, to clench around them and hold their mate inside. </p><p>Eskel’s grip loosened and he resumed his gentle petting, soothing his partner now that they were tied. It was a dangerous time for an alpha; if their omega didn’t like their performance the poor alpha was now trapped inside of them in a vice-like grip, and alphas became incredibly docile after orgasm.</p><p>Omegas, unfortunately, didn’t.</p><p>Lambert hadn’t come, yet, and now that all movement had come to a halt he was left grinding down on the knot inside of him. He sighed and growled, rocking in whatever small movements the tie allowed. His cock bobbed, flush and full, precum beading at the tip.</p><p>Really, what was Geralt to do?</p><p>“I’ve got you,” he muttered, closing his hand around Lambert’s needy cock. The omega let loose a noise somewhere between a snarl and a whine, and clutched at Geralt’s shoulders. “You’re alright,” he reassured, sweeping back Lambert’s damp hair with one hand as the other jerked him with the same brutal cadence Lambert had fucked himself. The omega keened, and gasped, pulling on the tie as he came apart. Geralt bumped their foreheads together.“That’s a good boy.”</p><p>He wasn’t exactly sure where that came from, but Lambert shuddered and pulsed in his grasp, coming over Geralt’s fist, so it must have been welcome. The omega leaned heavily against him, pulling deep breaths as he recovered. Geralt enjoyed the scent of sex and satisfaction, the mix between the feral stink of heat and the familiar sweat of his brethren a strange perfume. It lulled him enough to make Geralt startle as a hand clawed at the ties of his trousers. </p><p>Lambert’s recovery was fast, and he was alert enough post-orgasm to notice the aching line of Geralt’s prick trapped in his sleep clothes. Lambert freed him, spat unceremoniously into his palm, and began to stroke Geralt off as well.  </p><p>Despite himself, Geralt tried to pull away.  Wasting an erection on a handjob wasn’t wise, and he wasn’t going to last long enough for Eskel’s knot to go down. He’d come in Lambert’s hand before he could hope to be of use to him.</p><p>“You don’t have to,” Geralt said, wriggling back.</p><p>Lambert didn’t allow it. The omega kept one hand working over his cock, and the other gripped hard onto his bicep. It wasn’t aggressive, but it was firm. Lambert’s eyes were vivid, pinning Geralt in place as his hand moved relentlessly around Geralt’s prick.</p><p>“No,” he growled, barely intelligible, “want it.”</p><p>Damn if that didn’t make Geralt even harder: Lambert’s dark, animalistic intensity strumming a chord in his own ancient instincts. They said betas were free of madness, but it didn’t feel like it just then. Geralt <em> wanted </em>. He wanted to help, to soothe, to take and give pleasure. He wanted to belong there. The feeling reared up, a strong wave that crashed against the physical pleasure being pulled from him, and he groaned and turned his face away. </p><p>Lambert took to the expanse of neck offered to him, dragging his teeth across Geralt’s pulse point. He was growling, but the noise was an encouragement, not a threat. Geralt gave up trying to save his erection for later, and came into Lambert’s hand.</p><p>The omega snickered against his neck, pleased. They leaned into each other, propping themselves up with Eskel laying limp and dazed under them. Eventually, Lambert moved, pulling back. Eskel whimpered as his cock slipped free, and Lambert collapsed next to him onto his back. The omega splayed his legs wide, and Geralt could  barely fathom what he was looking at. </p><p>Lambert had been carefully holding on to Geralt’s cum, cupping it in his hand. Now that he was laid out and free from a knot, the omega shamelessly spread Geralt’s spend on his used hole, pushing some in to join with Eskel’s. </p><p>Geralt struggled not to blush. Fuck, that was- that was a lot. Lambert looked extraordinarily pleased. His ass was reddened and sopping wet, the mix of cum and slick making him filthy. Geralt reminded himself that this was a heat, this was an old instinct- trying to breed- and that most likely Lambert would strangle him if he brought this up later. Still, although it was heat-driven and they were utterly sterile, the idea that Lambert wanted Geralt’s seed as well as his mate’s, well- that was not going to be something he could process quickly.</p><p>His dazed staring was interrupted as Eskel shifted under him. Geralt was still sitting on his knees.</p><p>“Shit, sorry Eskel,” Geralt muttered, rolling off to lay on his other side. Eskel grabbed him immediately, pulling Geralt in and sniffing at his hair. He required a cuddle.</p><p>Lambert regarded the two of them coolly. No longer desperate for breeding, his libido was temporarily quenched. Geralt wasn’t worried about aggression, but Lambert did look like he wanted nothing to do with their snuggling. </p><p>“I’ve got him,” Geralt said, pulling a fur over to wrap Eskel in it. “Go do what you need to.”</p><p>Lambert didn’t need any more encouragement. He was up in a flash, burning off the strange, post-orgasmic energy omegas sometimes experienced. He prowled the room, inspecting his space, and then finally collapsed on Geralt’s bed, spread-eagle.</p><p>Geralt tucked the fur around Eskel, making sure the soft fur was against his skin. The alpha always loved feeling warm and cozy in his rut- the sensation of being wrapped up very similar to being held. Geralt convinced the bigger man to use his chest as a pillow, and Eskel sighed and rubbed his cheek to Geralt’s skin, the quelling and familiar scent of friend making him go boneless. </p><p>Outside of his rut, Eskel wasn’t very cuddly. At least, he tried not to be. Something about being a large, imposing man and a witcher had Eskel always leaning away from his impulses. Geralt knew Eskel better than himself. The man wanted hugs. He wanted to snuggle up and sleep next to a warm body. He wanted the close safety of a trusted friend, pressed back to back. </p><p>Fortunately, when it came to Eskel, Geralt was always willing to be that person. There was familiarity there that was unlike anything else in the world. Geralt never felt anything close to safe enough to lay like this with someone else, even if it were a lover. He thought Eskel was the only person he’d allow to sleep in his arms, but then Lambert kicked his way in, and now there were two of them. </p><p>Unsurprisingly, Eskel was asleep in minutes. The stress from worrying about Lambert and falling into his rut sapped him of all his energy. He snored softly against Geralt’s breastbone, and the beta struggled not to smile. He was reminded of the first few years of Eskel’s ruts, about how he’d burn so bright with frantic energy and worry just to sleep like a dead man, often with his arms in a vice around Geralt.</p><p>Another snore, louder, came from the bed. </p><p>Geralt smiled at the ceiling and shook his head. Eventually he would have to get up and give a quick update to Vesemir, get fresh water and the like- but for a short while, at least, he could rest.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Final bit coming soon. It’s mostly finished, I just need to polish it. Let me know about any errors. I didn’t pester my beta reader for this one as I just posted it on a whim. Once again, sorry about my constant adding of chapters. This thing literally doubled in length.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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